Pretty Postcards From Hell
by lwbush
Summary: Sequel to "Secure Yourself To Heaven" - The newest Big Bad may wear a very familiar face.
1. Default Chapter

Pretty Postcards From Hell 1

Pretty Postcards From Hell

Sequel To "Secure Yourself To Heaven"

By Lori Bush

~**~

Feedback: lwbush@charter.net or onlist is fine  
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, etc. own Buffy. You know the routine.  
Distribution: Let me know, 'kay? Any list it's sent to is cool.  
Summary: The next Big Bad may just be a very familiar face…  
Continuity: See "Secure Yourself" for the details. Angel has had his flirtation with Darla and the Dark Side and come back with his tail between his legs.

Pairing: B/X and G/W, probably A/C, since Shawn asked for it so nicely. (I expect that chocolate, young man!)  
Rating: R  
Author's notes: Many people asked for this, so I had to do it. Not only that, but I'm writing the "Angel" characters for the first time in this one. I so love Cordy now she's off in LA. If you haven't read the first story, you will be hopelessly lost and even a GPS won't help.

Dedicated: To all you wonderful people who kept me going while I was struggling with the last few parts of "Secure Yourself." I hope you like this one as much.

~**~

Xander Harris stretched himself in the chair, enjoying his coffee and the early morning sunshine. The day was new enough that there was dew clinging to the grass, and the birds were serenading him cheerily. The air was still cool, with little hint of the dry California heat that would blanket this very yard in a few hours. He'd adopted the habit of rising early, before the rest of the household, often, and taking his coffee outside to relax by the pool and enjoy it.

He was spoiled, no question. Rotten. He had the most wonderful house, a great job with the wonders of flexibility (since he was self-employed, for the most part), his best friends around all the time, and the woman he loved every night in his bed.

It had been several months since Willow had almost died. Several months since the last time Unity had been needed, although they'd called her up a few times since, just to be sure they still could. Unity was a single being, forged from the four best friends – Xander, Giles, Willow and Buffy – with superhuman strength and abilities. Since Unity stopped being simply the sum of her parts and began becoming a personality unto herself, they felt sometimes like she was the absent member of their team. So every now and then, they'd join themselves and see how she was doing. Even though her intellect was built on that of Rupert Giles, she apparently thought her own thoughts now even while she was Divided into the four Parts, and they were always amazed to hear what she had been considering while they were busy living their daily lives.

And what wonderful daily lives they lived, on the whole. Sure, Sunnydale was still Demon Central Station, with hot and cold running creepies all around, but they had it under control. As a part of Unity, Buffy had even more strength than she had ever had before, and Xander had begun to refer to their nightly patrols as visits to "Vamps 'R' Dust." Dawn was living the life of a normal teenaged girl (as normal as one living on the Hellmouth could be, anyway), Willow was acing school, and they had this awesome house. The house…

The Watcher's Council had been highly ashamed of the fact that one of their own had tried to destroy the hope for humanity that was the Unity. That Quentin Travers, assigned to merely monitor the Unity, had instead taken a large, sharp ceremonial knife and plunged it into the heart of one of her Parts. And that only the fact that Willow and her "Rupes" had found new and creative uses for the desk in the magic shop office, causing them to bind into a single soul, saved the redheaded witch from death. The Council showed their deep regret and repentant spirit in a way that beat the hell out of a Hallmark Card – they paid off the four members of Unity. Generously. No, make that obscenely.

Giles had paid off the mortgage on the Magic Box. Xander had paid off his truck. Buffy had quit the stupid temp job, and made sure her mother and sister would never want for anything again. Willow just smiled and invested online. And they'd gone together and bought the house of all their dreams.

Buffy, being the member of the team with the most free time these days, had located it. It was on the street where Cordelia used to live – the area of the town where People With Money lived. They'd had a few requirements in mind when they began looking. The house had to have at least four bedrooms, in order to be able to house the four of them and any visitors without difficulty. Since Giles and Willow and Buffy and Xander had become couples, they wanted two Master suites, leaving two guest rooms. They needed those two suites to be as far apart as physically possible, since neither couple was exactly the quietest, and they still enjoyed a bit of privacy for their romantic lives. It needed to have a basement they could convert into a gym for Buffy's training. This had been the place with all that – actually, it had *five* bedrooms. Xander surveyed the backyard, grinning. The pool and hot tub had been a bonus.

He gazed over at the French doors that opened from Willow and Giles' suite out to the pool, knowing that there was an identical set behind him from his and Buffy's room. Turning his head slightly, he could see in through the huge plate glass window to the elegantly decorated living room – Buffy and Willow's handiwork, not his. Why the hell did they want a grand piano? None of them could play more than "Chopsticks." His gaze wandered across the neatly manicured lawn – along with carpentry, it seemed he had a talent for landscaping. He spent hours in the yard, on days he wasn't working, trimming and planting, and reaping the benefits afterwards with Buffy's appreciation for "sweaty Xander." For the first time in his life, he had a nice tan.

Xander shook his head. He must be dreaming. Sometime soon, he'd wake up, and find out what he'd always known in the past. Anything that was too good to be true wasn't. Maybe he just needed someone to pinch him, let him know it was all real.

"Ow!"

*It's real, doofus. Come back to bed.*

*Why is it you pinch yourself, but it only hurts *me* enough to bruise? You always come away spotless.* He could sense Buffy's lascivious grin through their mental connection.

*Like I said, come back to bed. I'll let you check for marks…*

Coffee forgotten, he slid back through the French doors, and locked them behind himself as he went in.

~**~

"Come now, Mr. Travers, it's time for your medicine." The private nurse spoke in a singsong voice, like to a little child. "There. That's very good." She turned to her employer, sitting silently in the corner. "I'll be back in four hours, unless you need me for anything else?" The elderly man shook his head.

"I'll page you if anything comes up," he dismissed her with a wave of his hand. Once she was safely out of the room, he turned to his protégé and smiled. "A good day today, Quentin?"

"I think so," the other man answered a bit thickly. "I can think clearer than yesterday, anyway. That damned medicine…" he began to whine.

"…Keeps you from hurting yourself and others. We may be able to adjust the dosage downward a bit more. You've been doing very well this week." A combination of textbook paranoia and clinical depression had turned the once powerful Watcher into a dangerously underhanded criminal mind. Only strong medicine kept him docile enough to walk freely. Before the complete diagnosis was in, he'd gotten loose in the Council chambers, and the Watcher from Ireland, Eileen McDougal, had to be rushed to surgery, and retired with full pay afterward. They finally let Travers out of the straightjacket two months ago, and were still fine-tuning the drugs.

The madness crept into his eyes for a moment. "What's the latest on Unity?" the former Watcher asked, almost salivating. He had an obsession of mammoth proportions with the supernatural being.

"They've been surprisingly quiet," the older man answered. "I still haven't figured out how to get cameras into that new house of theirs, but I do know everything that goes on outside, and believe me when I say that watching the Harris boy trim the shrubs is beyond mind-numbing." Ernst Heinrich stood and walked to the desk, picking up a piece of paper. "However, if the plan I told you about works as it should, things could be picking up shortly." He smiled evilly.

Every man, it has been said, has his price. Heinrich, the eldest of the Watchers, had watched Unity with growing dread since her inception. First, she undermined the institution of the Slayer, being as she was made partly from the current one. The existence of a Watcher, Rupert Giles, in the Parts of Unity rendered the Watcher's Council basically invalid in her management. Her powers were nearly unstoppable, and he feared what could happen if evil took hold in her heart. He'd already watched the fall of one Slayer, Faith, and seen the damage she could do. Multiply her strength and cunning, and who knew what could be unleashed?

So when the opportunity came to send Travers and Dr. Andrea Fairhope to monitor and find ways to control the Unity, he'd been the strongest proponent on the Council. He'd signed without question invoices for any materials Quentin had requested, and fed the other Watcher's growing paranoia with his own. He feared Unity, and wouldn't weep to see her destroyed. But Ernst remained in the shadows of it all, unwilling to risk his own position of power if something should go wrong.

And go wrong, it had. Travers had let madness overtake reason, and hadn't properly indoctrinated Dr. Fairhope before he lost it, leaving gaping holes in his plan through which the entire operation fell. Heinrich had maintained his plausible deniability, taking on Quentin Travers' care upon his return to England under the guise of a Senior Watcher's responsibility. His discrete enquiries for a doctor that was willing to stretch the Hippocratic Oath to suit his needs had, however, drawn the attention of another group.

They'd promised they could control Unity – that killing her would be a waste. They had "uses" for her. It could never be traced back to him, and it would reinvigorate the Watcher's Council, since they would be needed even more once Unity was turned to this group's purposes. A newer, stronger, better-controlled Slayer would be needed. The Council would have purpose again.

Ernst liked to tell himself that that was the deciding factor – the integrity of the Council. But he couldn't really deny that the fifty million dollars certainly kept him from reconsidering when he finally threw his lot in with Wolfram and Hart.

~**~

It had stopped being comment-worthy long ago when one of the couples would emerge from their respective bedroom flushed and dreamy-eyed, so Willow and Giles paid the other two little notice when they came out a couple hours later.

"Damned Water Company," Giles was fuming. "I can't stand coffee in the morning." He went over to the faucet, trying it in frustration.

"Same result as five seconds ago, Rupes," Willow observed with a grin from behind her mug. "Some of us are just thankful that Xander made the coffee early enough that the water was still on." She winked at the other two. "He's such a fiend without his tea."

"Yeah," Xander pitched in. "We just tried to take a shower, ourselves. No luck." He and Buffy grinned in spite of his disappointed tone. Then his smile widened. "We're gonna go in the pool, instead." He gestured to their bathing suits.

"After we eat," Buffy reminded him, digging in the cabinets and emerging with a box of Life cereal. "We do have milk, don't we?"

"Yes, we have bloody milk, just no *water,*" the former Watcher said icily.

"Come on, my big angry bear, let's go to the Magic Box. Maybe the water will be on there," Willow said sympathetically, taking her lover by the hand. "See you guys later," she waved as they went out the garage door.

Xander retrieved two bowls from the cabinet by the sink. "He does have a temper, sometimes, doesn't he?"

Buffy set out the milk and poured her cereal, nodding. "It's a good thing Willow is so easy-going. She handles him well. And he doesn't get like that very often."

Her boyfriend took a big spoonful of crunchy sweet goodness, and was still chomping when he spoke. "Since we didn't get a shower together, can we go skinny-dipping?" he asked hopefully.

The Slayer slapped his arm. "No, no way! And don't talk with your mouth full."

~**~

Angel awakened to the sound of someone *leaning* on his doorbell. "All right – keep your pants on," he yelled sleepily, pulling a shirt on, but not bothering to cover his boxers. "I'm on my way!" Yanking the door wide open, he stared at the figure that had disturbed his sleep. He was still struggling with the whole sunlight and working with day-dwellers issue, and hadn't established a regular sleep schedule yet. At this rate, he never would. "Cordelia?" He glanced over his shoulder at the clock on the mantle. "What are you doing here at seven in the morning?"

She stumbled in, pale and troubled. "An early wakeup call from the Vision Express," the girl explained, rubbing her head. "Got any aspirin?" The vampire hurried to his bathroom, pulling out a bottle he kept on hand for this very woman. In reflection, he realized that Cordy was dressed in rumpled clothing, as if she had thrown on the first thing that she'd laid her hands on, instead of looking to-die-for put together, as she usually did. He went and filled a glass with water.

"Thanks." She looked at him with red-rimmed eyes, and his heart went out to her once more. These visions were taxing, he knew, but had rarely come on her at random times of the day or night – most of the trouble he and his friends fought had the decency to keep the same hours they did. Without preamble, she launched her tale. "Sunnydale – big evil. Trouble for Xander, Giles, Willow and Buffy. Dark – very dark." She was gasping, clearly disturbed by the danger to her ex (and his as well), pouring out the story in chunks of nouns without verbs interspersed.

Angel grabbed her shoulders, shaking her slightly. "Slow down, Cor. We'll go, but I need more details. Sit down, breathe, and tell me everything you saw."

After she finally gave him every detail she could dredge up, he picked up the phone and punched in a number. "Wes? Yeah, sorry to wake you. Pack and get over here as fast as you can – I need you to go with Cordelia to Sunnydale. I'll join you guys later." A few minutes pause on Angel's end of the line. "Uhm, yeah, you still are," Angel said sheepishly. Then, "No, no reason, I guess." He was sounding less sure of himself by the minute. Cordelia grabbed the phone out of his hand.

"Wes, vision – bad. Gotta go now. No time for testosterone battles, so get over it, and get here, pronto." She listened only for a moment. "Good. See you soon." Hanging up the phone, she dusted off her hands, a bit of the normal Cordelia confidence back in her posture. "When are you two going to accept that *neither* of you call the shots?" Looking at her watch, she sighed. "So much to pack, so little time. Back soon."

~**~

"Are you sure this is the right address?" Cordelia asked Wesley for at least the fifth time. "I mean, it doesn't surprise me too much that Buffy doesn't live at home anymore, but I thought she'd be in college, at the dorms, not in a house somewhere. A house in my old neighborhood, no less. Maybe she's working as an au pair or something."

"Cordelia," the young Englishman answered patiently, "I do believe my glasses are up to standard, and I've read the slip correctly. Besides the fact that you checked it three times with Mrs. Summers. Why don't we try the bell?" Avoiding further discussion, he pressed the button by the door.

The intercom above the button crackled to life. "Yes?" It did sound like Buffy. The pair looked at the offending grillwork, then at each other.

"Urhm, yes," Wesley began formally, "Wesley Wyndham-Price and Cordelia Chase to see Miss Buffy Summers, please."

The grill responded with a squeal. "Wes! Cordy! I'll be right there!" They heard the pounding of footsteps behind the door, and it flew open, an excited Slyer appearing. "I haven't seen either of you in forever," she crowed, hugging them both. Wes blushed almost purple as he became painfully aware of how much naked Buffy flesh was pressed to his body due to the tiny bikini she was wearing. "Where are my manners? Come in," she offered, motioning to them. "Can I get you something to drink?"

They followed her down the hall, emerging in a bright, airy and enormous kitchen. "We have Coke, Sprite, juice, milk, water…oh, wait," she went over to the tap and tried it, with no results. "Bottled water," she corrected herself. "And I can make some fresh coffee if you want. Oh wait, can't. No water." She shrugged. "We have beer, too, but it's still kinda early."

"Buffy," Cordelia said impatiently, "We're not here to inventory your beverages. Although I will take a bottle of water, thanks." Wes glared at her, and she shrugged. "Anyway, we're here to warn you about something evil, that I think could put you in serious danger, and while I know you handle that kind of thing a lot, this seemed to rank right up there with some of the biggest of the Big Bads." 

Buffy held up a finger. "Unless you want to tell it twice, wait just a minute."

Cordelia was surprised when a door from outside swung open, revealing a tanned and shapely male body, damp swim shorts worn low on his hips. This must be Buffy's Sugar Daddy, the May Queen thought, and the Slayer certainly could have done worse, from what she could see. He was rubbing his hair dry, the towel obscuring his face. "Hey, baby," Buffy greeted him, confirming her view of the relationship, "Cordelia has news I thought you'd want to hear."

The former cheerleader held out her hand in introduction. "Nice to meet you, I'm…" she looked up into very familiar chocolate brown eyes, "Xander Harris?"

Xander grinned. "No, I think I am. Good to see you, Cor." Then he pulled her to him and wrapped her in a bear hug that clearly showed he no longer had guilty feelings about their relationship and how it had ended. Backing away, he held her at arms length. "I like the hair."

Touching her short blonde locks, Cordy was still stunned at who Buffy's apparent rich mystery lover was. "Xander?"

"I think we've covered that ground, Cordy. Big bad? Remember?" Apparently, Buffy's patience level hadn't grown any. The Slayer slid herself under Xander's arm, and looked at him as if he'd said something. "You're right," she responded out of the clear blue, "Giles and Willow should be here too. He's had time to have his tea by now, should I call, or just…?"

Xander kissed her nose. "Already done. They'll be here in about fifteen, since Willow cut class again today to be with him. So, Cordy, if you don't want to be constantly repeating yourself, can the story wait a few more minutes?"

For quite possibly the first time in her life, Cordelia Chase was speechless. Xander and Buffy apparently were lovers. One of them had come into money, or something. Buffy's words, and Xander's as well, had indicated that Willow, whom last Cordelia had heard had a *girlfriend,* now had some kind of a relationship with the stuffy old English librarian that would cause Miss Responsibility to cut classes. Perhaps the great evil she had foreseen was that all her former friends and acquaintances had been replaced by doubles from a parallel world. Hell, this could be Sunnydale's own "Invasion Of The Body Snatchers." Not to mention the hints of non-verbal communication that had been bandied about.

It was too much. She'd been wakened by visions of great evil. She'd seen these people, who she cared for almost as much as her friends in LA, being devoured by a Big Bad that gave her the willies, and with her job, Cordelia didn't get willies easily. The sick headache still hadn't completely eased. She'd had to pack in *twenty minutes* for God's sake!

The easiest thing to do was to shut down, and sort it out later. Wesley caught the fainting Cordelia before her head hit the marble kitchen floor.

~**~


	2. Chapter Two

Pretty Postcards From Hell 2

~2~

Cordelia had died, and gone to – well, if not heaven, at least the Decorator's Showcase model for it. She woke up in a huge waterbed encased in satin sheets. Through the sheer drapes on the French doors she could see a sparkling pool and manicured yard. Through a door slightly to the right, she saw a bathroom area that just possibly was larger than her entire apartment. An antique wardrobe stood a bit farther down the wall. The bed smelled of cologne, and vaguely of sex. She didn't remember having sex, and it happened to her infrequently enough she was sure she'd have recalled. That wasn't her fragrance, either. She came to the conclusion that this was someone else's bed and room. Damn.

Motion to the other side of the room caught her eye, and she turned to see Xander come in. He'd thrown a short-sleeved shirt over his swim trunks, although it was still unbuttoned. Casting an appraising glance up and down his body, Cordy had to ask herself why she'd ever given him up. Oh, yeah, Willow, kissing, rebar. Still…

No, not going to go there, she remonstrated herself. Apparently, he's Buffy's now. She wondered how Willow felt about that. That thought led to a flood of thoughts, the magnitude of which had overwhelmed her previously, and she groaned and put a hand to her head. 

Looking up she all but fell into his dark concerned eyes. "Hey, Cor. You any better? You've been out for quite a while." Xander sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her hair back from her forehead. "Wesley called Angel, and he's having kittens that he can't leave LA 'till dark. Dead Boy really cares for you doesn't he?"

"Nice room," Cordelia replied wryly, avoiding the question. She didn't know how she and Angel stood, and wasn't about to examine the subject with her ex-boyfriend.

"Yeah," he grinned. "Buffy thought we should put you in our room since Wesley wasn't going to make it all the way upstairs to the guest room carrying you."

"Hey! I'm not that heavy."

"No, but Wes is that much of a wimp." She slugged him in the arm.

Buffy hollered in, sounding amused, from just outside the almost closed door. "Stop beating on my man, Cordelia. That's my job."

Cordy sat up quickly, but the pain in her head made her wince. Xander grabbed a few pillows and placed them against the headboard, helping her ease back to sit up against them. Once settled, she scowled at Xander, and he knew he was in for it. He just wasn't sure what "it" was going to be, yet. "Okay," she demanded. "What's the what with you and the Slay babe? Last I knew, you were dating an ex-demon and she was getting over Soldier Boy. Now you live together on Easy Street, and I could swear you're reading each other's minds."

"We do. Read each other's minds. We've had a lot going on since we last talked to you, Cor. Most of it seems pretty unbelievable, even to me, and I was there." He proceeded to let her know what had been happening for the last few months in Sunnydale; although he never referred to the being that they were Parts of by name. Every once in a while, she could tell Buffy had taken over the narrative, even though it was Xander's voice. It spooked her a bit, talking to both of them with only one present, but she was fascinated by the tale. Had it happened anywhere but over the Hellmouth, it would be unreal. As it was, it was still pretty bizarre.

"So you're saying Willow – and *Giles*?"

"Yup," Xander assured her. "On the office desk, no less."

"I'm sorry," Queen C shook her head. "I can believe that you and Buffy share thoughts and feelings. I can believe the four of you together make up some magical Supergirl with direct connections to God Himself. I can believe you are rich beyond my wildest dreams, which are pretty wild. I cannot believe the two of them are doing it, and especially not under those circumstances."

"Reserve judgment until you see how hot he looks now that he's lost a few years, Cordy." That had clearly been Buffy speaking. Xander took back control. "How are you feeling now?"

"Better," she admitted.

"Wanna try standing? The lovely Slayer has ordered Chinese for lunch, albeit a late one, and it awaits us in the dining room, along with the couple in question and Wesley." Cordelia nodded, and Xander helped her carefully to her feet, keeping a supportive arm around her waist. She gained strength as she walked, and by the time they reached the dining room, she was barely leaning on him for support. She looked up, and stared into a set of very attractive hazel brown eyes, set in the face of an equally attractive sandy-haired man. It took her a few moments.

"Giles?" He nodded. "Whoa! I think I agree with ya, Buff. Definite hottie!" Then he blushed, and she recognized the former librarian clearly. Looking around the group, she announced, "Well? What are we waiting for? Let's eat."

They all dug in, and for the rest of lunch, prophecy and danger were forgotten, while old friends shared, and conversation buzzed cheerfully.

~**~

Ernst Heinrich hung up the telephone. Turning to his napping protégé, he smiled. "Now things should start to get interesting," he announced to the sleeping figure. "It's all set into place."

~**~

"So, Cordy – what's the big bad all about?" Willow asked from her perch on the arm of Giles' chair.

"Well, I guess you all know how I inherited this vision thing from Doyle when he died. It's a royal pain in the ass, but we have been able to save a few lives because of it. This morning, I was awakened by a real doozy. You four," she nodded to the two couples, "were all there, and this big black evil *thing* was swallowing you all. The scariest part was, you weren't fighting it – you were angry and hostile, but not towards *it*. After it consumed you all, it began to destroy the world, a piece at a time. It was awful." She covered her face with her hands to regain her composure.

"What did it look like, Cordelia?" Giles asked her gently.

"I don't know. Black. BAD. I couldn't get a clear view, but I'd probably know it if I saw it again."

"I have a fairly complete library here at the house, but if we can't find it in these books, we can go to the store." Giles was already shifting into Research Mode. "Can you tell me anything more about it?"

"Yeah – it kept talking about something called Unity."

~**~

Angel hated Sunnydale. Nothing good ever happened there, it seemed. He'd fallen for Buffy, almost destroying her destiny. He'd made love to Buffy, destroying his own soul. It had been the departure gate for his personal non-stop flight to Hell. Now, the black stain that was Sunnydale was affecting Cordelia. And as soon as the sun set, he'd hit the road, driving like crazy to get there, even though Wesley had called back and told him she was doing fine. He still worried about her – someone had to. She didn't worry enough about herself. That was the other bad thing about Sunnydale – it was too far from LA when a vampire was in a hurry to get there.

~**~

Cordelia had expected any number of responses to her vision. She thought maybe they'd go into Heavy Research, like they used to in high school. Maybe Giles would call the Watcher's Council for help. Buffy, if she were her usual self, might run out and try to take it on without further information. She never expected them all to laugh at her.

"What?" she demanded, as the peals of laughter rang from the four. "I tell you you're all going to probably die because of this Unity thing, and you think it's funny?" She was beginning to get angry.

Xander walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder, which she angrily shrugged away. "Sorry, Cor, but you really had us going there for a bit."

"There really is nothing amusing about Cordelia's visions," Wesley sniffed prissily. "They've always been accurate in the past."

"Remember that Supergirl I told you about, Cor? The one that's made up of the four of us? *That's* Unity. She's not evil at all." Xander wiped his eyes. Sometime during lunch, the water had come back on, and he walked back over to his seat and picked up his glass, taking a big gulp to help him regain his equilibrium. "She wouldn't hurt a flea."

"I thought she was helping you guys kill vamps and demons. Isn't that more than a flea?"

"I kill vampires and demons, too, Cordy," Buffy offered. "That doesn't make me automatically a candidate for the next Big Bad."

"But couldn't she *become* bad?" Cordelia pressed.

"Although she does have her own thoughts and emotions, I still believe the only way she could become actually evil, since she was created to help mankind, is if all of *us* suddenly were. As far as I know, none of us are." Giles ruffled Willow's hair and smirked. "I don't think kinky counts." The look on Wesley's face was worth a thousand words.

"She couldn't do an Angel, and lose her soul, could she?" Cordelia knew what she'd seen; she just had to find a way to make them understand it was possible, since they wouldn't be prepared for it if they thought it wasn't.

Willow, who'd gravitated to Giles' lap, waved her hand in the air. "Cordy, that'd be me. I'm the soul, and Unity can't even form without all four of us. That's why Travers tried to kill me, kill one of us, anyway, so Unity couldn't exist." She hopped up, responding to something Giles had obviously said through their link. "I'll get it." She hurried off into the kitchen.

"Tea," Giles explained. "Would anyone else like some? Wesley?"

"I suppose so," the younger ex-Watcher agreed, still a bit taken aback by all the changes in his mentor. He watched as Rupert apparently mentally communicated with the girl in the kitchen. "Isn't it a bit – noisy, sharing every thought?" he asked curiously.

"It was rather disturbing at first, when there were four of us – we couldn't hear ourselves think for a while. We even had to finish each other's sentences. We've developed more control since then. And the life-bond actually helps keep the stray thoughts down – Willow and I only hear each other, unless Xander or Buffy consciously makes an effort to reach us. We pretty much think together, so it really isn't like a second person talking in your head, most of the time." Wesley shook his head – as a bachelor for far less time that Rupert had been, he couldn't imagine the kind of forced togetherness this life-bond brought on, let alone what adjustments his former colleague had made. Still, he didn't seem to have any complaints…

Willow brought in the tea and handed him his cup. She kissed Giles as she handed him his own cup and settled back onto his lap. Wesley suddenly really missed Virginia.

"I think you guys need to be careful," Cordelia was insisting, still a bit miffed. "If she's a as strong as you say she is, she'd be really dangerous if she went bad."

They were all pretty much talking at once by now, and a couple of times, voices were raised a bit. The Parts of Unity were defensive to the last, while the two from LA held fast to the accuracy of Cordy's visions. No one heard the doorbell. Or the yelling. It was Cordy who finally looked up and noticed the man in black at the glass door that led to the pool. "Angel!" She jumped up and opened the door, inviting him in.

"Wow," Xander observed, "You got here quick." The vampire ignored him, all his attention on the blonde woman who'd let him in.

"Cordelia, are you okay? What's going on here?"

She brushed him away. "I'm fine – stop fussing. It was just a combination of the early hour I got up and post-vision headache. Oh, and there was a bit of information overload…" Her eyes widened, and Angel saw her 'get the big guy to do something' expression emerge. She smiled brightly at him before her eyes narrowed. "Maybe *you* can convince these idiots that their precious Unity could endanger their damned *lives,*" the May Queen hissed through a tight smile and locked teeth.

The quartet was halfway through their story before Angel realized he'd barely reacted to Buffy's presence. He felt a little bad about that, but he had been concerned about Cordy, and felt a bit justified. And then, they'd been tiptoeing around how exactly she and Xander, as well as Giles and Willow, had developed this 'connection' of theirs. With some surprise, he decided that it didn't hurt *too* much – she and Xander had been dancing around each other for years, and if they were now more than friends, he'd be happy for them. And the implications of that realization nearly scared him as much as the Great Evil that Cordy had predicted.

~**~

"Hey," Cordy greeted Angel, sticking her head in the door of his room. "Nice digs, huh?" She wandered inside and sat down on the bed. "You think we're doing the right thing in the wrong town or something? We piss off Wolfram and Hart enough that they try to kill us, and our office becomes confetti. They piss off the Watcher's Council enough that someone tries to kill them, and they end up with enough money to buy California. What's wrong with this picture?"

Angel shrugged. "Maybe things are finally going Buffy's way. It's about time they did."

"You don't seem too, um, broody, about the Slayer this time. You looked sad for a minute downstairs, but you seem okay now. I mean, she's, uhh…"

Cordelia saw the regret wash over Angel's face, then disappear like morning mist. "She's sleeping with Xander. I'm a big boy, Cor, I can connect the dots. I knew she'd move on sometime – after all, there was Riley before, too. And no one's ever loved her more than Xander did – still does, I can only assume. I'll probably always love her, but I think I'm glad it's him she ended up with. She could do worse. Remember when Spike came to visit and seemed to think he was going to make it with Buffy?" They shared amused laughter at the memory.

"So, what do you think? After all this time, did TPTB fire a dud with this one?"

Angel sat down beside her and took her hand. "I've never known your visions to be wrong, Cordelia. They're just too close to the problem to look at it objectively. I'll call Gunn and Kate – maybe together they can keep the office running while we stay here and keep an eye on this whole Unity thing." He patted her hand, then grew suddenly uncomfortable with their closeness, dropping her hand again and standing up. "You need to rest – you've had a tough day. We'll talk about it some more tomorrow."

She smiled widely at him. "You can be a pretty great guy when nobody's looking, you know that?" She spun on her heel and retreated to her own room. Angel followed her with his eyes until she was inside her door, then went to the phone and dialed Kate's number, hoping she'd still be up at this hour.

~**~

"Your check will be mailed as soon as I know the job was done correctly," Heinrich spat into the phone. He listened for a few minutes, and said menacingly, "I don't think you want to threaten me. You don't seem to be aware of with whom you're dealing." His very slight German accent increased with his ire. A few moments more passed, and his tone softened. "Of course. Thank you." He replaced the receiver with a bit more force than was needed, picking it quickly back up and dialing a memorized number. "The tools are in place," he assured the person on the other end, "but I may need you to clean up after the contractor." He wore an expression of strained patience. "I'm aware you told me so. Next time I'll use your in-house team. I'm still fairly new to this." Listening again, he had to ask. "You think it will start working that soon? Good." Pause. "Yes, precisely. We'll speak again when I arrive." 

Ernst Heinrich turned to the nurse, who had been waiting patiently. "We'll need to up Mr. Travers' dose for a couple of days – I'm afraid travel might make him volatile again. I warned you when you were hired you might be needed on the road, so I hope you can pack quickly. Have you ever been to the States, my dear?"

~**~

Andrea Fairhope smiled reassuringly at the young mother before her, clutching her baby anxiously. "Sarah just has allergies, Mrs. Stansfield. She'll be fine if you switch her to soy formula – here's the name of one I recommend. Make a follow-up appointment with Clarice on your way out. I'd like to see her in a month to make sure that clears up the rash."

"Thank you, Dr. Fairhope. I feel much better." Andrea smiled until the woman was gone from the examining room, then her expression fell. Stupid people should not be allowed access to medical books, she decided. Katie Stansfield had decided her six-month old child had scarlet fever, based on the symptoms she'd read in a home medical guide, and just about knocked the door down demanding an immediate appointment. The doctor's face brightened again, though – even the most pig-headed parent in her pediatric practice was better than dealing with the Watcher's Council on a daily basis.

After the incident with Unity, Andrea found herself at odds with the very organization she'd spent most of her adult life working for. She'd seen clearly her part in the abuse of power, her cow-like willingness to do whatever they required, and she hadn't liked it one bit. It was only six weeks after her return to London before she could stomach their hypocrisy no longer, and she tendered her resignation. Although she knew that Quentin had acted without the approval of the full Council, she couldn't help but feel there was someone there who'd backed him, who'd actually sanctioned the plan to kill an innocent girl in order to keep the Council in control. That thought tainted her every dealing with the group, and she could finally stand it no longer. After she quit the organization, she'd returned to Sunnydale and quietly opened a pediatric practice. Her knowledge of the *real* reasons for many of the mysterious maladies that plagued the town's youth rapidly earned her a reputation as a miracle worker, and she kept her occasional use of supernatural cures as quiet as she could. But it felt good to be helping people instead of manipulating them, for once.

She also felt the need to keep an eye on Unity, and did so as subtly as she could. She'd gone to the foursome when she'd returned to California, letting them know just what had transpired between herself and the Council, informing them of her new life in Sunnydale, not wanting them to think she was watching them if they saw her on the street. Although she was - it was just due to her own feelings of responsibility for the quartet and their product, not for nefarious reasons. They'd been far more forgiving and welcoming than she thought she'd deserved. They'd even let her help them in their monthly examinations of the new home, checking for Council cameras and spells.

She'd not let them know that she'd been instrumental in convincing the Council to make monetary reparations to the four to make up for what had been done to them. The quartet had been suspicious, at first, but gentle persuasion, along with the fact that money was a concern for all of them, eventually won them over. If Andrea'd had her way, they'd have gotten even more than they did, although she had to admit, it was a healthy sum. She'd been invited to their new house early on, seen with satisfaction the arrangements, and melted quietly into the background of their lives for the most part, watching them, visiting once in a while, helping them when she could, but never interfering. She didn't trust her former employer, though, and made it a point to stay on top of whatever happened, watching carefully for any meddlesome intervention.

~**~

The next morning, Angel walked down the stairs cautiously, that enormous plate-glass window in the living room in the front of his mind. How he was going to get from the base of the stairs to the kitchen (also heavily windowed, he recalled from a brief visit) without getting fried was a major concern. He was pleasantly surprised to see quilts draped over the entire area, casting the expanse of the room into shadowy safety. His pleasure grew when he reached the kitchen and found it decorated the same way. Willow had come to his room last night to inform him that they had a small amount of blood in the 'fridge that they kept for Spike's visits, and they'd go out for a fresher supply in the morning. It was nice to feel so welcome. Even Xander had been more than civil to him last night, probably because he now had the woman that they'd both loved as his own, and felt he could be generous towards his former rival.

So the vampire wasn't expecting the greeting he received from the dark-haired young man when he met him at the refrigerator. "Dead Boy," Xander sneered, looking irritated.

Angel nodded. "Morning," he offered meekly. "Thanks for covering the windows."

"Yeah," came the reply in the same pissed-off tone, "Buffy and I did it before we went to bed. Didn't want dust on the furniture – maid service doesn't come till Wednesday." Xander grabbed his coffee mug and headed for the door. "If anyone needs me, I'll be outside in the *sun*," he announced in a superior way, and slammed the door behind him. 

"Geez," came the voice from behind Angel, "Who put the starch in *his* shorts today?" Cordy came in, only her sleepy eyes marring her perfect look. She was dressed to the nines, her sporty gear obviously carefully matched and all accessories coordinated. Her makeup was flawless.

"Maybe he got up on the wrong side of the bed today," Angel shrugged. "You look a bit – less casual than usual."

"Must be the effects of the old neighborhood – I feel the need to chase after somebody named Jones." Pawing around in the cabinets, she finally found the one containing coffee mugs and poured herself a cup. "Mmmm – maybe we should hire Xander to make our coffee at the office – with all their money, he could afford to fly in every day." She looked over at him. "Want a cup?"

The vampire had already located the blood bag in the fridge and was pouring some into another mug. "No thanks, I'll have my traditional morning eye-opener today." He stuck it in the microwave and punched the buttons. "I talked to both Gunn and Kate last night, and they said they'd handle things as long as we needed them to. Now, how do we announce we want to stay for a while?"

"You just ask," Buffy said brightly from the door. "Miss the old hometown?" She walked over to Angel, ignoring Cordelia completely. "I've got lots of free time – we could get caught up and everything. We'd love it if you stayed." A rather petulant expression crossed her face, and then she pouted. "Xander wants to know if Cordelia is staying as well."

Seeing Buffy's apparent displeasure at the mere thought of Cordy around, Angel tried to diffuse the situation. "Yes, and Wesley, too, if you'll all have us."

Running her hand suggestively up his arm, she purred, "We'd *love* to have you." With a glare at the May Queen, she added, "All, I guess." Then she moved to the door Xander had left through and went out without any farewell.

Okay, now *that* was weirder yet," Cordy observed.

~**~


	3. Chapter Three

Pretty Postcards From Hell 3

~3~

What an odd day, Angel found himself thinking as evening came on. Xander had been called in on a job, and the way he and Buffy kissed goodbye before he left the house, the vampire half expected the smoke alarms to go off. The young man had given him another of those superior grins when he came up for air. Giles had stayed around for a good portion of the morning, drinking tea and berating Wesley for no apparent reason. Willow was off at school, and Buffy and Cordelia laid out by the pool, although Cordy told him later, she felt like she was alone. The Slayer kept her head buried in a magazine, answering any attempts at conversation with monosyllabic grunts. She only came alive when she came inside and saw Angel, and even then, more so when Cordy was within sight.

If he didn't know better, and maybe he didn't, Angel would have sworn Buffy was trying to make Cordy jealous. Not only had she pawed and fawned over Xander until he left, but then she'd done an only slightly toned down version of the same thing with him every time the other woman was around. The few times it was just she and Angel, she simply acted polite and friendly, and he got the impression she really was pretty much over him. Last night, there'd been a few "might-have-been" kinds of looks, but this morning seemed to be purely about manipulation. She made nasty comments about Cordelia sucking down the bottled water, since she was drinking the tap version herself, but Queen C was the master of the equally nasty comeback, and Buffy soon abandoned that tack.

By dinnertime, the whole house resembled an armed camp under a barely maintained treaty. Even Wesley was harsh and snappish, and it seemed to Angel that only he and Cordelia were behaving in a civilized manner. Wes and Giles were exchanging brutally formal barbs over tea, with Willow getting her digs in in support of her love. Wes had even busted Cordy's chops a time or two, which the girl appeared to brush off, but was obviously pretty hurt by. Xander seemed to be playing the same game as Buffy, but in the other direction – he was overtly attentive to Cordelia, while at the same time making sure the souled vampire knew exactly who had Buffy's heart. 

It was odd, really – the two lovers seemed to be using their mental connection to time their attacks on the pair from LA. Neither appeared to be the least bit jealous of the other's wandering attentions. In fact, they seemed to be egging each other on. The more miserable their guests looked, the happier it seemed to make them.

They had just finished dinner when the doorbell rang, and Willow went to the intercom. "Oh, hi, Andrea," she said when the visitor identified herself. "I'll be right there."

"Hey, guys," Willow announced to the tense group when she returned with the visitor. "Angel, Wes, Cordelia – this is Andrea Fairhope. She's the doctor who helped try to kill me." Cordy clearly saw the pained expression on the doctor's face, and stared at the redheaded witch. It wasn't like Willow to be so deliberately tactless, with what was clearly a sore subject.

"Hi," Cordy offered with a bright, although forced, smile, "I'm Cordelia. Went to high school with this bunch." 

She winced slightly when Xander threw an arm familiarly around her. "The best part of my educational process. We were pretty active together – extra-cirricularly, if you get my drift." She noticed him watching Angel for reaction, and elbowed her ex-boyfriend sharply. Ignoring Xander beyond that, she slipped out from under his arm, and went over to her co-workers. "This is Angel, and this is Wesley Wyndham-Price. We work together in LA."

"Yes," Wes announced, "I'm in charge."

"Whoa," Willow chirped. "So the mighty Angel no longer heads up Angel Investigations?"

"Yes," Wesley confirmed. "He became obsessed over a certain girl, and lost his focus and direction."

Xander snorted. "Geez, make the same mistake twice, why don't ya?" Several of the others giggled, Wesley included. Angel remained stone-faced.

"Excuse me," Andrea gulped, "I know my way around, and I think I'll go get a glass of water." Subtly she motioned to Cordy, who followed her to the kitchen.

Once inside, she turned to the other woman. "I know we've barely met, but are they always this mean when you people are around? Because there seems to be a certain level of venom in this conversation tonight that I've rarely witnessed anywhere before, and never from those four."

"Well, Xander's never cared much for Angel, but he seems to be baiting him more than usual. And Willow is usually pretty sweet, actually. Even Wes seems mean, and he's not very good at that, as a rule."

"Have you, Rupert and Angel felt any unusual anger today?"

"I was a little bitchy around mid-morning, but Buffy was riding my tail, so that might be the only reason. Giles has been ripping holes in Wes all night, himself."

"Your friend Angel has been extremely quiet – might he be harboring hidden feelings?"

Cordelia smiled. "When Angel's angry, people notice. He broods quietly when he's upset, but vents when he's angry."

"Yes, I guess it would be pretty apparent were he disturbed. He is a vampire, right?" At the younger woman's stunned expression, Andrea couldn't help but smile. "Willow's introduction, besides being hurtful, left out the fact that I'm a retired Watcher. In fact, I believe I recognize your Mr. Wyndham-Price's name as well."

"Yeah, well, he got fired, though." Cordy's eyes widened in concern. "Was that mean?"

The doctor couldn't help but like this girl. "No, just honest." She set her face. "I need you to try and figure out what they've all had in common that you and Angel have avoided today. I smell something rotten here, and I'd love to head it off before it really stinks. I'll get back to you a little later." Leaving Cordy in the kitchen, Andrea marched back to the group in the dining room. "Gotta run – my pager just went off. I'll let myself out," Cordelia heard her tell the others. Bracing herself for further verbal bloodletting, Queen C threw back her shoulders and went to face the lions that used to be her friends.

~**~

They'd finally escaped upstairs. Wes and Giles had traded parting snipes, and the younger ex-Watcher had vanished almost instantly into his room without as much as a word to his co-workers. Cordelia slipped into Angel's room as she had the night before.

"Gee, that was a real blast. Remind me to schedule another trip here before my next root-canal – should make dental work pretty refreshing in comparison."

"There's something not right here, Cor."

"Ya think? What tipped you off? Buffy's claw marks on my back, or Xander's drool stains on my shoulder?"

"It might have been the Wes and Rupert English Insult-A-Rama that finally got the message across. What the hell is their problem?" Angel began to pace the floor, running his fingers through his hair.

"Whatever it is, it's affecting everyone but you and me. Andrea wanted me to try and figure out what they had in common that we didn't share with them."

"Smart lady, if she figured out there was a problem in as short a time as she was here."

"I used to be a Watcher, and we're trained to observe," Andrea's softly accented voice announced as she shimmered into sight.

"Huh? How? Wha…?" Angel struggled to complete so much as a thought, but was too surprised.

The older woman materialized completely. "Magic – it's my specialty. I've been here, but invisible, since I 'left' earlier. Willow gave me the keys to all her magical bans when they first moved in, in case of emergency. I'd say this probably qualifies." She plopped down on the bed by the May Queen. "Ideas?"

"Well, I'd say it was something to do with this place, if Wes weren't affected," Angel postulated.

"That also eliminates the 'Parts of Unity' option," Andrea mused.

"The old Sunnydale High School would be a link, but I'm the exception there," Cordelia tried.

"Everyone affected is human, Cor. Is there something you're not telling us?" She poked the grinning Angel in the ribs.

Smiling as well, Andrea offered, "And I'd say couple-dom was a common denominator, but you two aren't affected." The completely stunned looks on Angel and Cordy's faces when she'd looked up expecting smiles threw the ex-Watcher off. "What?"

"We're…" Cordelia drifted off, still a bit stunned.

"Not a couple – SO not couple-y. Two singles. Totally." Angel was filling uncomfortable silence as fast as his tongue would carry him. "Friends," he went on. "Just…"

Andrea held up her hand. "I get it. Sorry."

"Besides," Cordelia pitched in weakly, "Wes."

"Oh, yeah."

They fell into awkward silence again, the previous mild good humor completely dissipated. Finally, Cordelia stood up. "I can't think of anything right now," she said. "I'm going to bed." Eyeing Andrea carefully, she continued, "Alone. In my own room – across the hall. Goodnight, Angel, Dr. Fairhope." She waved stiffly. "See you in the morning. Tomorrow. Downstairs." She pulled the door closed and they could hear her heels clicking rapidly as she crossed the hall.

"Well, now, that wasn't very awkward, now, was it? I'm terribly sorry. I just assumed…" She sighed. "It is true what they say about assume making an ass out of 'u' and 'me,' isn't it?"

The vampire took pity on her. "It's not your fault. Cordy and I are really close friends, and we sometimes act like an old married couple. Add that to the fact she came right to my room after we came upstairs, I can see how you saw what you thought you did." He ran his hand through his hair again. "I don't do well with relationships, and have found it safest to avoid the whole 'couple' scene."

"So why does Buffy seem to treat you like her personal possession?"

"One of the prime examples of a relationship I didn't do well with. We have a history."

"As do Xander and Cordelia, I'd venture?" When Angel nodded, she went on. "Then they obviously see you two as a couple as well, or they wouldn't be trying so hard to break you up."

The souled vampire dropped heavily into the bedside chair. "Is there a stronger word for 'sucks'? Because this whole thing is going there, fast."

"So I guess I can count on your help solving this problem, right?"

"Ab-so-damn-lutely." 

~**~

"If that were any more fun, it'd be illegal." Buffy collapsed against the inside of the bedroom door after they'd sent their guests upstairs nearly whimpering.

"In some states, it may be." Xander pressed her back against the door, kissing her hungrily. Finally coming up for air, he gasped, "Do you really think we can break them up? Angel seems pretty stoic about it all."

Buffy began nipping at his neck, making him writhe, and in one instance, bleed slightly. "He'll be stoic until we find just the right button, and then you watch. Old Faithful will erupt like clockwork." She giggled evilly. "Either that, or they'll fall into each other's arms to comfort one another, and we'll have Angelus to play with. He can take care of Wimpy Wesley and Miss Bitch for us."

Xander swept his life-mate into his arms and threw her on the bed, landing atop her solidly enough to elicit a grunt from the Slayer. "Only if he lets us watch," he growled into her shirt, before ripping the front of it open with his teeth.

"Ohh, I like this. Why didn't we ever play rough before?"

"We thought we did."

"This is more fun. Do you think they're really even dating?" Buffy managed to choke out between gasps.

"Well, we both know that Cordy can act quite the slut, but keeps those old knees pressed pretty tightly together. Maybe Angel just thinks he can break through that wall."

"You should know – she was your slut in high school."

"Yup, and I never got any. I like it better, with you being my slut now." The conversation degenerated into grunts and moans, with the occasional pained squeal, for quite some time after.

~**~

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss…"

"Morgan, sir, Lilah Morgan. And the pleasure is all mine. You have certainly earned the respect of our uppermost management, Mr. Heinrich. With the delivery of the Dark Unity, we will be able to accomplish things we've only dreamed of in the past." Her confident expression faltered only slightly when the unconscious body of Quentin Travers was rolled down the ramp in a wheelchair.

Noticing her brief flinch, Ernst waved his hand. "This is my associate. He's never traveled well, and with his recent illness, we thought it better to bring him across the ocean in this manner. Don't let it worry you. Miss Roberts has him well in hand, don't you, dear?" The nurse nodded, waiting for further direction. "I assume you've made the arrangements I'd asked for?" They began to walk, the nurse with her motionless patient following obediently behind.

"Yes, sir. The three-bedroom suite you asked for is quite nice, and tomorrow we'll have you driven to the home in Sunnydale. We believe you'll find it well suited for you to keep surveillance on the Unity's residence." She hesitated slightly. "There may be a slight problem, however." Ernst's face darkened, and he stopped moving. "Uhm, it seems the constant thorn in our side has managed to step into this neat little arrangement as well. Angel, a regular nemesis of ours, has traveled to Sunnydale with two of his associates, and if reports are correct, is staying with the Unity group."

Heinrich resumed his stride, apparently deep in thought. "Can he be killed?"

"Yes, we're pretty sure he can. We…uhm, we just haven't managed to do it, yet." Lilah was studying the toes of her three hundred dollar pumps.

"No problem. I'm sure Unity will take care of it." The Watcher never looked at her, but his tone was confident.

"I hope to God you're right," the lawyer mumbled under her breath.

~**~


	4. Chapter Four

Pretty Postcards From Hell 4

~4~

"Ah, Cordelia. Welcome, fair maiden. Join us for the breaking of the fast." Xander stood, bowed sweepingly and pulled out a chair, arranging himself between Buffy and Cordy. Angel, on Buffy's other side, threw the newcomer a grateful look, probably happy to see a non-predatory friendly face. Xander poured her a cup of coffee and sat back down. "As I was saying, I have a few things to clean up on this current job, and I'll be back. Probably before lunch. Then we can go do something – hit the beach, the park, catch some rays." That cold grin was firmly in place and aimed as usual at Angel.

"I don't know," Buffy said suggestively. "I might want to hang here." She scooted closer to Angel. *I have an idea,* she cooed in Xander's mind as she stroked the vampire's arm absently. *I think Angel's defenses are strong against me, right now, but how would he handle Unity?*

The cold grin widened. *I love your deliciously evil mind. She looks like you, but she's strong and dangerous. From what I've heard about his fling with Darla from Wes, that's his kind of girl. And with all of us acting together…* She could feel him pull the other two Parts into the discussion. *Hey, guys. Buffy thought of a way we can have real fun with Angel later.*

The plan was outlined, and they all agreed. *But we can't let them know yet,* Willow pointed out. *Cordy's gonna fight us tooth and nail because of that weird dislike she has for Unity.*

Giles' smile was distinctly icy as well. *And since when has the cheerleader been any match for us?* With an affectionate glance at his life-mate, he softened slightly. *Okay, we'll keep it a surprise.*

"It's exceptionally rude to talk about people behind their back," Wesley growled.

"Poor Mr. Priss," Willow crowed, "So paranoid he thinks we're talking about *him**.*** We have better things to do."

The group finished the meal, and Angel pulled Cordelia aside. "This big evil – was it dangerous to the whole world, or just these four? 'Cos I'm beginning to think we might be doing the world a favor if we let them get destroyed."

The May Queen rolled her eyes. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that." She began to walk away, and stopped, hearing Giles making unpleasant insinuations about Wesley's manhood. "Even if you are right," she threw back over her shoulder.

~**~

"The house is perfect," Ernst Heinrich assured Lilah. "Wonderful views of the back of Unity's residence, and the surveillance cameras have the front fully covered, as well. I'd still like to get something inside, but…"

"They've even covered the back windows, Ernst," Travers, who'd been awake since before they left LA, whined. "Do you think they knew we'd be watching?"

"I believe that's another dubious benefit of Angel's presence, sir," Lilah offered. "He's a vampire, and since he is staying there…"

"I didn't make the connection before," Heinrich announced. "Of course. Angelus."

"So you're familiar with our little problem already?" the lawyer asked, amazed.

"Naturally. My research for this has been thorough. I have all of the medical records, down to their dental files. I have their school transcripts. I've read all of Rupert Giles' diaries repeatedly. Where do you think the idea for my little additive came from? It's merely a variation of a spell that was successful once before on the Slayer." He strolled to the window, studying the pool area of the nearby home. "Perhaps we could find a way to work even this to our advantage. We'll have to see." More to himself than anyone, Heinrich muttered, "I wonder if he's affected?"

~**~

"Any idea yet as to what's causing the Anger Olympics here?" Andrea asked as she materialized behind Angel soon after he went in his room.

The Vampire jumped. "Jeez! Now I know why people hate it when I sneak up behind them. You're far too good at that."

"Thank you. I'm thinking of changing my name to The Shadow," she grinned.

"Don't you have a medical practice to maintain?" he asked, more in curiosity than an attempt to get rid of her.

"Physician's Assistant handling most of it; beeper on 'vibrate' for emergencies," she explained. "Ideas?"

"Well, they all seemed only mildly irritating when they first came downstairs this morning, but as they had their coffee and woke up, they got progressively more hostile," Angel said thoughtfully. "Could it be the coffee?"

She shook her head. "Giles doesn't drink it, and neither does Wesley. Cordelia does. No common denominator there, either." 

"How long have you been here, anyway?"

"I saw you were the first one up. I don't think you'd been awake long when I arrived. I didn't know vampires ate scrambled eggs."

If he could have blushed, he would have. "I made 'em for Cordy, mostly, although there was enough for everyone. She got me hooked on them – I like the texture for some reason. She went through a period she was on this bizarre diet, and that was all she could eat for breakfast and lunch. Wes and I finally convinced her that being thin wasn't worth death from high cholesterol, but she still likes them once in a while."

"Do you eat human food frequently?"

"Enough. But food can't be the denominator, either, since Cordy eats."

"I know, it's just… I spent a great deal of my youth, my Watcher training, studying vampires, learning their habits. But it was almost all academic. I rarely ever saw a real one. Very few of us ever did. Only the lucky ones, like Wesley and Rupert, who got assigned to Slayers, knew what we were really up against. And I'm sure they didn't tell us everything in their diaries – the Council is at its core, good, but any group that size is only as good as a majority of the current members, and there were decidedly bad spots – still are. It's why I quit, really. You couldn't tell them everything, unless you wanted certain things to be used against you, later. So anything the slightest bit questionable would either be edited out or referred to obliquely. It wasn't always this way. Older diaries told it like it was." She looked at her knees for a moment, then raised her head, smiling. "Still, I doubt you are representative of the average vampire, are you?"

He couldn't help but smile in return. "Hardly."

Andrea stood and moved over towards him, taking his cold hand in her warm smaller one. "I'm sure the Council is behind this, whatever it is that's going on. You've got to help me."

Their eyes locked, and Angel nodded almost imperceptibly. "I will." He murmured.

Just then, the bedroom door burst open, and a very pissed May Queen breezed in. The vampire and the doctor stared at her like deer caught in the headlights, neither sure why they felt guilty. Both realized at the same time their hands were still joined, and dropped the grip like hot iron. But Cordelia had taken it all in.

"Oh, great. I'm being verbally beaten up downstairs, and the only two people I thought were on my side are more interested in staring meaningfully into each other's eyes. You know that's as far as he can go, don't you?" she snapped at the older woman. "Get horizontal with him, and it unleashes his inner demon, and we've already got enough bad stuff going on, right now, thanks."

"As for you," she spat, turning to her co-worker, "I didn't know you liked older women. Oh, yeah, I forgot, for you, outside of Darla, there *aren't* many older women." Brown eyes snapping, the girl backed towards the door. Just before she turned to go, she hissed, "By the way, when you two are done cooing at each other, we still have a crisis downstairs, and I could use a little damn *help*." On the last word, she slammed the door shut, and the pictures on the wall rattled.

Angel and Andrea stood, speechless for several seconds. Then the doctor observed, "Well, maybe it *is* the coffee…"

~**~

Cordelia decided they needed more food, and that was a great way for her to get out of the house. And, boy, did she want out. It had been a couple of hours since she'd come in on Angel and Andrea, and she was ashamed of the things she'd said to them. Anger had just welled up inside of her, and she couldn't control it. As she wandered through the isles at Albertson's, she considered what could have made her behave so badly. Angel was one of her closest friends, and Andrea one of their only allies, right now. They hadn't been doing anything but holding hands, and there could be a million explanations for *that*. And she certainly held no claim on Angel, in spite of what the doctor had assumed about their relationship.

At least she hadn't had to face either of them since her blow-up. They hadn't shown their faces downstairs all morning, and she could only hope it was because they were working on the problem, not avoiding her. She hadn't been that much of a bitch since high school. Absently, Cordy threw a twelve pack of water into the basket. She'd bought peanut butter, lunchmeats, bread… She couldn't put it off much longer. With a sigh she headed to the checkout counter, before taking her provisions back to the trenches.

~**~

"Wes," Angel insisted, "You have to try and focus. What are you so upset about?"

The young ex-watcher's face contorted. "Rupert is worse than my father – I'm so stupid in his eyes, never good enough."

"He never treated you that way before, did he?"

"It was subtle, but this whole crew never liked me. Superior little twits, all of them. They knew it all, never wanted me around… And then there's you and Cordelia…"

The vampire frowned. "Why is it all of a sudden, everyone's saying 'me and Cordelia' as if it were a hyphenated word?"

"Well, you're always together – doing things…"

"Wes, so are you and I. We *work* together, remember?"

Wesley's mood darkened rapidly. "And there's that whole handsome, dark and brooding act that wraps women around your little finger. I've seen you do it before. She's beautiful, you want her. None of the rest of us stand a chance."

"I never knew you wanted her. I thought you'd tried that, and it didn't work. And you were seeing Virginia…"

"Oh, sooo mature. Remind me of my failed relationship. At least I've never bedded an underage girl, then tried to kill her and all her friends afterwards. Or obsessed over a dangerous, ill woman to the point of hurting everyone I know. I'll take my advice on women elsewhere, thanks." With that, the young Englishman stormed out of the room, rattling the same pictures that Cordelia had when he slammed the door.

Andrea materialized. "I think the symptoms we're seeing can be summed up as irrational anger combined with sadism. Not a pretty mixture, especially in people who have so much fodder to feed to the cannon. You've managed to really piss these folks off in the past, haven't you?" She smiled, softening her words slightly.

"I am a vampire, after all. And when I lost my soul, I was pretty bad. They all let it go, I thought, a long time ago. I suffer enough every day over the things I've done." Angel looked terrifically melancholy.

"If they did let it go, they've all picked it back up. We've interviewed Willow, Rupert and Wesley, and they've all gone straight for the jugular, if you'll pardon the turn of phrase. They seem happiest when they've scored – made you wince. They want to hurt you and Cordelia, maybe Wesley, but not each other. I wonder why?"

"I would guess that the mental link they share would make it too much like self-torture," Angel ventured. Andrea nodded thoughtfully.

"What if whoever set this up had just the members of Unity targeted? Perhaps Wesley, and that brief glitch earlier, which may or may not mean Cordelia's been affected, were simply by-products? What would be accomplished by making them sadistic and cruel?"

Angle sat down, deep in thought. Suddenly his eyes grew wide. "Oh, God. This is eerily familiar. I may have an idea of who's behind this, anyway…"

~**~

Cordelia wrestled the door open, trying to carry the water and the other groceries all inside in one trip. "Here," an oddly familiar accented voice offered, "let me take some of that." Since she couldn't see over the environmentally proper brown paper bag she was carrying, Cordy released the water to whoever it was, and kicked the door to the garage closed behind her. She finally made it to the kitchen and dumped the bags with a huge sigh.

"I hope I didn't squash the bread," she said cheerfully to her helper. Turning, she saw a petite redhead, dressed in an unseasonable black leather catsuit emerge from the pantry, where she had probably put her load down. "Who are you?" Queen C asked, not unkindly.

Smiling, the woman extended her hand. "You're Cordelia, I know. Thanks for doing the grocery shopping for us. I'm Unity."

~**~

Angel was aware of pounding footsteps out in the hall, just before his door swung open and a panting Cordelia threw herself inside, locking the door behind her and leaning against it heavily.

"Cordy?" Angel wondered if their hostile hosts had moved from verbal abuse to an attempt at physical attacks.

"Sh-sh-she's here. It's HER," the May Queen gasped in fear.

"Who?" Andrea asked.

"Bad," Cordy burbled. "Evil."

There was a soft knock on the door.

"NO!" Cordy pleaded. "Don't let her in." She threw herself into a startled Angel's arms. "We'll all DIE!" 

He patted her awkwardly, trying to calm her hysteria. "Why don't I go talk to her? I promise to be very cautious. At least then we'll know what we're dealing with." Her expression uncertain, Cordy backed hesitantly away, knowing that Angel could handle himself, but still concerned for him. 

"Can we lock the door behind you?"

"How about I make both of us invisible, Cordelia, and we can see if she's dangerous?" Andrea felt certain that things would be fine with Unity, but Cordelia's fears would be calmed if she saw it for herself.

"Oh, yes," Cody breathed gratefully.

"Cordelia?" the soft voice from the other side of the door enquired. "I won't harm you, I promise. I need to talk to you, and…" Cordy and the doctor faded away, and Angel opened the door. "…Angel. Oh, Angel! Hi. I'm Unity." She held out a slim hand, and the vampire shook it, taking in how much like her four Parts this being looked. The body was precisely Buffy's build, something he had seared into his brain years ago. The hair was Willow's, the voice Rupert's, and the soft brown eyes, Xander's, when he wasn't angry, anyway. Those eyes filled with tears, and she choked out, "there's something terrible going on, and you've got to help me." 

As she collapsed into the chair beside the bed, he grimaced. "I'm beginning to feel like Dr. Laura," he quipped. "Everyone wants me to help them." A soft snicker told him that Andrea remembered using the same words with him earlier. "We thought you were dangerous. Cordy had a vision…"

*NO!* Cordy thought, *Don't trust her.* Although what she was seeing led her not to voice that thought quite yet. Something about this girl just screamed "trustworthy."

"I'm aware of everything that you told my Parts," she interrupted him. "Although I am my own person, I am also made up of the four of them. And that's my problem. I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to keep them in check, and it frightens me. My Heart is cold and animalistic, my Spirit full of Dark Magic. My Body wants only to destroy, while my Mind is cruel and manipulative. The portion that is just me is stronger and holding onto sanity, but they're fighting me, tooth and nail." She looked at him in anguish. "It's as if the darkness inside of me is trying to take over, and I'm afraid of what I could do if it does."

Cordelia's voice came from the thin air. "So, the darkness was swallowing Unity, as well as the four of them. It wasn't Unity herself. I can buy that." Their cover blown, Andrea allowed herself and Cordy to reappear. "I'm sorry, Unity," the younger woman apologized. "I just assumed it was you."

The being smiled in spite of her distress. "Understandable. What I am and what we do is hard for people to comprehend."

"I think that answers the question we were asking earlier, Doctor," Angel offered. "Whoever is doing this wants Unity to become evil, and I'm sure they plan to use her to do their will. Cor, does this remind you of any plan we've heard before?"

"Your Darla obsession – Wolfram & Hart were trying to make you become Angelus, weren't they?" He'd never told her all the details of his return to the fold, but she could figure. The vampire nodded.

"They couldn't have you, so now they want me," Unity realized.

"But I was sure this smelled of the Council," Andrea insisted.

Unity's soft eyes hardened for a moment, and anger flashed across her pretty face. Angel backed up a step, instinctively. Then she relaxed again. "My Heart," the being apologized. "He's the strongest since their bonding, and he really doesn't like you, Angel. We have to hurry – I don't know how much longer I can hold on."

The vampire nodded in agreement. This was one battle he really didn't want to fight, and wasn't sure he could win if he did. Turning to Andrea, he questioned, "Who do you know that we can call to help?"

~**~


	5. Chapter Five

Pretty Postcards From Hell 5

~5~

"Okay, then Cordelia went all psycho on us briefly, but we got her back. Angel and I were thinking coffee, but Wesley and Giles don't touch the stuff." Andrea looked around at the young people gathered in the waiting room of her office. It was Saturday, and the office was both closed and the only place large enough for everyone besides the Magic Box, which they didn't want to use because of the connection with Giles. Joyce Summers was manning the shop so that both Amy and Anya could help with the current problem. Oz and Tara were there, as well, and of course, Cordelia, Angel and Andrea. Unity stayed away for fear she might divide suddenly, since her control was iffy at best. With her Parts as unstable as they appeared to be, they might hurt someone.

"What do they drink?" Tara asked, reasonably sure of the answer.

"Tea," Cordy answered in her "duh" voice.

"Water," Oz said in his understated way. He was holding Amy's hand. They'd recently begun dating, and seemed very happy just to be together. He hadn't become any more talkative, however.

"Well, yeah, they drink water, but we all do," the May Queen protested.

"Uhm, Cor – I don't," Angel offered. "My regular liquid diet sort of removes that requirement," he continued sheepishly.

"And you only drink bottled," the doctor said, eyeing Cordy with growing understanding.

"So how do you explain my little 'venom moment' this morning?" Cordelia asked.

"Coffee…" Angel began.

"…Made with tap water," Andrea finished. "At least we know what we're looking for now." She smiled hopefully. "And because of you, we know it wears off eventually. I'll call Unity."

~**~

"What are we looking for again?" Oz asked his girlfriend as they both stared at the ground.

"Anything that could be affecting the water system in the house," she reminded him. "An odd pump, a freshly dug hole, something that looks recently tampered with."

"How about a tape recorder?"

"Huh?" Amy walked over to where Oz stood. A camouflage bedecked mini-cassette player was half buried in the ground, murmuring. She knew Oz had good eyes and ears thanks to his lycanthropic senses, but she was still impressed he even noticed it; it had been so well hidden. The witch bent over and listened. "That's not English," she confirmed.

"Which means it's probably some ancient spell-chanting language," the young man guessed.

"Safe bet," Amy agreed. "Since this," she stomped on the ground right beside the recorder, and a hollow metallic "thump" sounded, "is the water meter box for Unity's house."

The musician smiled. "Bingo."

~**~

"I think we can handle the Parts better, divided. If they do influence her, she'd be too strong for all of us." Andrea was studying the micro-cassette recorder as she spoke. "The spell on this tape caused the affected liquid – in this case, the tap water in this house – to break down the mental barriers on their anger, actually bringing them joy when others feel pain." She looked up at Angel. "It's something like a spell we read about in one of Giles' diaries that was affecting some beer sold on the college campus," Andrea pointed out. "A Watcher would be aware of this spell. I can't believe your Evil Lawyers would."

"What are the dangers of prolonged and repeated exposure?" the vampire asked.

Andrea studied the books open on the table. "It's none too clear – apparently, most victims have either gotten themselves killed or arrested before that could be studied. All the evidence I've seen indicates that it wears off after a certain length of time, if it's not reapplied." They'd come back to the house and opened every tap they could find. The water had been running for an hour and a half, and with the tape recorder removed, the group felt fairly sure they'd purged the system. They were all drinking bottled water, anyway. "I would say it should take a day or two to get it out of their system naturally." The doctor looked over at Wesley. The other ex-Watcher was in a chair, neatly restrained by a simple spell Tara and Amy had placed on him. The first hour, he was loudly and verbally abusive to the entire group, but he'd calmed some, and was simply staring daggers at anyone who looked his way, now. "Of course," Andrea said thoughtfully, "We could see if there's a purging spell we could use to speed the process with Wesley." Standing, she went over to Amy and Tara to consult with the other Wiccas.

"So you want me to Divide?" Unity said softly from behind him. Angel started – he hadn't even seen her come into the room. He'd been impressed by this entity – she was beautiful, apparently superhumanly strong, clever and gentle. She truly was the distillation of all that was best of the four people from which she'd been formed. He hated the thought of losing this kind of force to the wrong side.

"Andrea seems to think it's our best bet," he shrugged.

"Well, you'll need to restrain all of them until the water wears off, and that spell is fine for Wesley, but there's no way it's going to hold Willow. It'd be like tying Buffy up with thread." Unity looked hard into his eyes. "Don't underestimate any of them. They're not the people you once knew, and this is a powerful spell they're under."

"Don't worry," Andrea reassured her, coming back over. "We'll be careful. We have to try. At least they'll know that you aren't influenced, so we won't have to try and prevent them Joining. They've discovered that they can't do their mean tricks with you in charge. One less worry." 

Unity frowned, but finally accepted the logic in that statement. Something just didn't feel right, but both logic and circumstances overrode instinct, and she shook it off. "I think I know the best way to hold them all. Let me show you."

~**~

"Okay, we should be seeing the results of our handiwork soon," Ernst announced to the gathering of persons both living and undead. Lilah had brought some handpicked vampiric help with her from LA. And most of them were probably scary enough as humans – as creatures of the night, they were the stuff the average nightmare would be made of. 

  
"What do you suggest we do?" Lilah asked. "From the amount of activity over there, it would seem that something's going on. They may be onto us."

"Or they've had to deal with Dark Unity, and are nursing the wounds," Travers said ominously. His hatred for Unity was the driving force in his life, and he secretly held the belief that once they were through with her, he'd be allowed to kill her. The thought kept him going.

"They were searching the grounds earlier – what if they found your additive?" the lawyer pressed.

"It's been there long enough to be effective," the elder Watcher reassured her. "If Dark Unity hasn't formed yet, she will, soon enough. The more water they get, the stronger their desire to do harm will become, but if it's been cut off, we'll just feed her more when she comes to us. But we need to see that she *does* come to us. Tyler," Heinrich ordered, and the largest of the LA vamps stepped forward. "I need you to go around town, spreading the word with your kind that we're seeking Dark Unity, and we have much to offer her. I have a feeling we'll see her soon, once word gets out." One of the special features of the home they'd rented had been an added access tunnel to the sewer system, allowing the vampires to come and go regardless of the time of day. Tyler opened the trap door to the tunnel, and vanished quickly within.

~**~

Afternoon was slowly fading into the purple and red sunset. Unity sat by the pool while her friends arranged the temporary prisons for her Parts. While she had suggested ways to hold the humans she drew her essence from, she didn't want to see the final arrangements, since it would give them clues as to how to circumvent the restraints set up.

She could feel them inside her, struggling to take control. They had so much anger and hatred, but she knew it wasn't natural. Her Parts were good people that had suffered and survived many awful things. They'd dealt with this anger, and put most of it behind them, but now the spell in the water had brought it all to the surface. And while little of it was unjustified – she held their memories, too, after all – most of it was seriously out of proportion.

Xander really didn't despise Angel anymore, she knew. But this version of him did. Buffy's disdain for the former cheerleader had never been so strong, and her mind was too clouded to recognize how Cordelia had changed. Rupert had surely resented Wesley and his attempt to take his place years ago, but it was ancient history, not an open and festering wound, as he'd been treating it for the past couple of days. And Willow had never held Andrea responsible for what Quentin had done, before.

And she knew they'd resent and hate her, too, for her part in this. At least until the spell wore off, and they were themselves again. The idea of her very Parts, the core of her being, hating her, saddened Unity beyond measure. Only the knowledge that it wouldn't last brought her any comfort.

"Unity!" Andrea's voice called from within the house. "It's time!" She rose and went inside, torn by the feeling that she was still missing something, but uncertain what it could be.

~**~

"Look at her," Travers growled at the monitor. "She's just *sitting* there by herself. She doesn't look angry, or dangerous. She just looks *sad*!" His belligerence was rising, along with his voice. "We don't have her. She's not going to turn!"

"Shut up!" Ernst snapped. "It will work, I know it. We don't need you jinxing it with your stupid obsession. Miss Roberts!" The nurse came scurrying to his side. "Medicate him before I kill him, please," the older man ordered tersely. He wasn't happy right now, either. Things were too out of his control. But from his research, he knew that Wolfram & Hart, the people ostensibly on his side, were every bit as dangerous as those opposed to him, and he had to at least maintain the façade of order. "It will work out," he murmured, mostly to himself. "It has to."

~**~

The group was arrayed around the body of Unity, each aware of their assignment when the Parts reappeared. Andrea and Angel were going to handle Buffy, having the best combination of physical strength and magical knowledge to hold the Slayer. She would be chained, and a restraining spell such as the one that had been used on Wesley would give added insurance. 

Amy and Tara were assigned to Willow, since their magical strength would be able to counteract hers, and they, like the redhead, were physically the weakest. Wesley wasn't completely free of the effects of the spell, but was acting more like himself, and besides, his ire towards the other ex-Watcher could actually make him more able to restrain him. So he and Anya were to handle Giles. Both Giles and Willow were to be held in locked rooms in the basement that would be both guarded and enchanted, until the water's effects faded. 

That left Cordelia and Oz to deal with Xander. Of the four, Unity seemed the least certain of how to keep hold of her Heart. He was wily and unpredictable, physically strong and nearly, in her estimation, a wild animal. The water had tapped an incredible dark streak inside of him, and released a lot of pent-up emotion that was now fueling a raging inferno. The few times her Parts had almost wrestled control away from her, Unity had been certain the Heart had led the charge. They had latched onto the "wild animal" description, and as they waited for the being to Divide, Oz clutched a weighted net, while Cordy nervously held the tranquilizer gun.

At a nod from Andrea, the figure of Unity began to shimmer, and soon four separate individuals stood within the loose circle of defenders. Angel threw himself at Buffy, and after a brief but spirited struggle, a chained Slayer was cursing him from the floor. Looking around he saw Wesley locking one door, and heard the angry screams of a redheaded witch from the other room. All present and accounted for, except…

In the corner, he could make out two fallen figures, and his unbeating heart jumped to his throat when he recognized one as Cordelia. Before he could go to her, her head lifted, and she climbed shakily to her feet. He was at her side instantly. "What happened?"

Her voice was tinged with tears. "Oz had the net ready, but Xander saw him and batted him aside like a fly. I had a bead on him, and shot the dart, but he was faster than most of the vampires I've dealt with. He snatched the damn thing out of the air just before it hit his shoulder, and turned and threw it at Oz, who was about to get up and try again. Then he backhanded me." She tenderly fingered the bruise forming on her cheek. "I didn't really see where he went after that." The tears she'd been fighting won the battle, and she collapsed against Angel's chest. "Unity was right – he's an animal. That's not our Xander, at all."

~**~

Xander knew the instant he'd been unable to wrestle control away from Unity that she'd betray them. He'd warned the others, but only he was completely ready for the attack when they Divided. A part of him would have gladly killed the Wolf and the cheerleader, but he had to get away too quickly, and besides, there was still enough of the real Xander left to make him hesitate at the idea of murdering his friends. He sneered in disgust at his own human frailty. The instant he escaped the basement, he made his way to his and Buffy's room. He'd prepared for just this instance before they'd called Unity. Whatever had unleashed the darkness in his soul had uncovered not only physical abilities, but also the often forgotten strategist that lived with Alexander Harris. He'd been ready for every eventuality.

He changed quickly into the camouflage outfit he'd left out on the bed, grabbing his two filled canteens and his knife belt. He hadn't had any guns in the house, and hadn't had time to procure them, but that was immaterial. Right now he had to lay low and make a plan to release the other Parts. There was something stirring inside him that said he was *this* close to having what he'd always wanted. The fact that he'd never wanted it before seemed to have escaped his troubled mind. Slipping out the French doors, he let the night swallow him as he began running his options through his fevered brain.

~**~

Willy grimaced. All he'd been hearing about all night was this "Dark Unity." He neither knew nor cared what it was, but his clientele hadn't been this worked up since the Mayor had been hiring. Apparently this thing was some kind of demon legend, or Messiah, or something. Whatever it was, they had their antennae, or tentacles, or whatever appendages they carried, all in a quiver about it. He wiped the bar and sighed. He shoulda listened to his momma, and gone into real estate.

~**~

*Buffy?*

*Xander!* she cried out to him with relief. *I could feel you were alive and had escaped, but not where you were or what you were doing. I was worried.*

*I think it's a spell they're using to hold you – it interfered with our mental bond. I've managed to break through it, see?* She was inside him again, her eyes seeing through his, her heart beating in time with his. She saw him pause, take a swig from his canteen, and felt him draw strength from it. *I've been out in some of the more interesting sections of SunnyHell, hon, and I think we have a big future ahead of us.*

As quickly as he remembered, she absorbed all the things he'd heard in the back alleys and crypts of the town. Then he showed her his plan. *Oh, God, Xander, that's incredible!*

*He ain't got nothing to do with it,* her lover snickered in her brain.

*Well, yeah. Speaking of which, you're sure little miss Goodie Two Shoes won't result?*

*Positive. Let me fill in the others.* His thoughts pulled away from hers for a few minutes, then he was back. *Let's do it,* he crowed, and three figures in the basement, as well as one outside the house, shimmered and vanished from sight.

~**~

Lilah had joined Ernst in watching the outside monitor from the Unity house. He'd picked up a dark figure moving through the shrubbery, but even the best infrared photography available couldn't made the tall fellow turn so they could clearly identify him. They were pretty sure it was male, but that was almost all they could tell for certain.

"Reinforcements for the White Hats?" Lilah speculated as they all attempted to figure out the mystery man's identity. He'd vanished, apparently into thin air, after a few moments on the screen.

"A really stupid thief?" Travers said, groggily. He'd seemed calmer after his last dose of medicine, and had only just awakened from a long nap.

"Maybe one of the Parts – she could have Divided, I suppose," Ernst postulated, hoping that too hadn't gone wrong and happened. If she Divided, it would mean the White Hats, as Lilah had called them, planned to restrain the Parts and let the spell wear off. If that were the case, he'd lost already. "He had the build of the Harris boy."

A scuffle outside the door silenced them, and mere moments after they heard it, the door to the study where they sat burst open, and a confident figure strode in. He was dressed in black military BDU's and boots. His dark hair had thick auburn streaks that shone red in the reflected light. He was around six foot tall, and the tight black t-shirt under his jacket showed in clear relief every sinewy muscle that banded his broad chest. The man held up in one hand Tyler, the vampire, who easily outweighed him by around 75 pounds. The vampire was dangling, his toes not quite able to touch the floor, and a look of panic was on his face. The man holding him wasn't even straining. "We hear you've been looking for us," he said, his deep voice carrying a hint of British inflection and his cold hazel eyes drilling holes in each of the people there. "We had a little difficulty convincing your guard here to let us in."

"Wh-wh-who are you?" Travers stammered in fear.

The man laughed humorlessly. "You summon us, but don't even know us when we arrive. We are…"

Heinrich stepped forward. "Dark Unity," he surmised.

With a twitch of his hand, the tall man snapped Tyler's neck, pulling the head off his body without effort and watching silently as the dust fell. When he raised his eyes from the last falling mote, his face wore a twisted grin. "You can call us Dark."

~**~


	6. Chapter Six

Pretty Postcards From Hell 6

~6~

"They're gone!" Anya ran into the room, panting and frightened. She and Tara had been left to guard the rooms holding Willow and Giles, although "monitor" might have been a better word, since "guard" implied an ability to stop something from happening. "Buffy went all glow-y, and she vanished. When we checked in the rooms, the Willow and Giles were gone, too."

"Shit," Andrea exploded. "This is my fault. I really thought they wouldn't Join again. We can only hope Unity is still able to keep them under control."

"Not to be the portent of gloom and doom…" Angel began.

"But you're so *good* at it," Cordelia interrupted. He glared at her.

"…But do you think they would have done that if they hadn't figured out a way around Unity's controls?"

"Shit," Andrea repeated.

~**~

Lilah Morgan was staring. She used to think that, in spite of the pesky way he was always ruining their plans, Angel had to be the best-looking man she'd ever seen. Sure, Lindsay'd had a certain nasty charm, but Angel won in the looks department, hands down. After meeting Dark, he'd now taken a distant second, with little chance to catch up again.

She'd seen pictures of Alexander Harris – even videotape. He'd been okay, well, not bad, really. But this creature wearing his body – she had to admit, if the young man who'd originally occupied it ever came back, she was going to have to look at him again, and much closer.

Not that she'd ever make a move on him like this – she'd worked with enough dangerous creatures, demons and simple homicidal humans to know a killer when she saw one, and this was one of the most glaring examples of killer she'd ever seen. He exuded a confidence and anger that, if you were stupid enough to get close enough to him you could probably touch. But you'd have to be pretty stupid to want to be within arm's length of someone as deadly as he clearly was.

Dark had taken off his jacket, and was sitting at the table, cleaning his knives. He had several, all very sharp, in varying sizes. She asked him why he didn't carry a gun, and he laughed in that hollow and humorless way he had, and said that guns were for sissies. 'They' wanted a weapon where they could feel the blood of their victim as they killed them. Then he smiled at her, and she got this impression that he was happily seeing a mental picture of filet of Lilah. She found other places to be for a while.

When next she saw Dark, he had his knives all strapped back in place, and he was heading out the front door. "Sh-sh-should you be leaving?" she asked nervously. Her understanding of the plan was that Dark Unity was to be their tool – and tools didn't go about leaving when they felt like it. She wasn't stupid enough to be the one to point that out to him, however.

"One of your vampire lackeys tried to tell us that we shouldn't, but we changed his mind. Actually, we made dust of his mind, along with the rest of his parts. You might want to invest in a good vacuum," he threw over his shoulder as he left. His last words were, "We have a very personal message to deliver. Back later."

~**~

Cordelia was nervous – the portents all indicated that her vision was coming true, and that things were only going to get worse. She fluttered around the kitchen in the big house, not really doing anything, but wanting to stay out of the way while the others looked for protection spells, location spells, anything that could help them find Unity and keep her from harming anyone. She too had researched until her eyes were swimming, and she finally offered to come down and make snacks to keep everyone going.

It was dark, but she was used to the dark. The thoughts running through her head were scary, but scary was her business. The house was still cold and strange to her, though. She wanted Angel down here with her. Now that the nasties were wearing off, she'd even like to have Wesley here. She wanted… The outside door creaked behind her, and she spun around.

"Xander! Where have you been? How did you get in here?"

His smile wasn't quite as comforting as she'd have liked. "Our house, remember? It helps to know the location of the hidden key, too." He held up the small copper tool.

Cordy began to babble, not certain why she was so uncomfortable, aside from the way he'd been treating her for the past couple of days, of course. This went deeper than that, though. "Well, if you're back, then maybe it's worn off. I mean, we thought you guys had Joined, and Unity went all bad and dark, but if you're here, she's not, and…" She grunted as he pinned her against the refrigerator with his body.

"You talk too damned much," he protested, slapping his hand across her mouth. Trapped like that, his face up to hers, she realized what was wrong. Her Xander had brown eyes, and this one didn't. And she'd seen ice chunks warmer than these hazel orbs. His other hand was crushing her breast, almost as if he were actually interested in her body, although she had strong feeling that this man only wanted her body if it would cause her pain. Which, she knew from his face, it would if he decided to try anything. "We need you to scream, Cordelia. We have to talk to everybody, and you can bring them all down here." Mockery danced in the cruel smile on his face. She was aware that the hand across her mouth had moved, and was now holding a huge sharp knife to her throat. He wanted her to scream. She could scream, all right.

They tumbled into the kitchen only minutes later, falling all over each other to be the first one there. It felt like hours to Cordelia. Angel managed to be first, as usual, and he roared when he saw the scene, diving towards this pseudo-Xander with his normal "I'm already dead, you can't kill me" bravado. The strange copy batted the vampire away almost casually, and he flew across the kitchen, landing near the outside door.

"Good," not-Xander said in a deep British-tinged voice that suddenly sounded completely alien to her. "You're all here." He stepped back from Cody, who had to concentrate on staying on her feet, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he'd shaken her. "We didn't want to have to say all this twice."

Angel was picking himself gingerly off the floor, looking like his demon was ready to surface. What the not-Xander said next knocked the breath out of all the others, and certainly gave the vampire pause.

"We're Dark Unity. Our friends call us Dark." He looked up from cleaning his nails with the knife he'd been holding to Cordy's throat with a twisted parody of Xander's smirk. "Actually, they're not our friends. They brought us here to use us, and we intend to pay them back for that. Soon, they'll call us 'Master.' But you can call us Dark." He cleaned his nails for a moment more, and Angel tried to move on him again. In less than a heartbeat, he had the knife back at Cordy's throat. "Although you aren't our friends, either." Angel held up his hands in the universal gesture of surrender. Finally, ignoring the May Queen's tears entirely, 'Dark' lowered the knife again and went back to working on his nails. "We suppose you want to know why we don't just kill you all now. The idea does have its appeal. But suffering and fear is the real fun, and we learned from a master." The look he gave Angel could have frozen a blast furnace. "Isn't that right, lover?" he sneered, in voice that was clearly Buffy's. He looked around the circle of faces, most strained and pale. "Since this is our home, we'll be back as soon as we straighten things out with the folks who so graciously brought us here. But make no mistake, we will be back." With a twirl, he sheathed the knife and gave a sardonic half-bow. Smoothly he slid out the door and melted into the night.

"Shit," Andrea whispered. It was becoming her mantra for the night.

~**~

"We can't do an uninvite spell," Amy insisted. "He, they, whatever – the four people whose names are on the title documents are in there. It's their house."

"B-b-besides," Tara stuttered, "Not vampires."

"Maybe we should just change the locks, then," Anya insisted stubbornly.

"Uhm," Oz reminded her, "Still their house."

The group was getting nowhere in deciding how to protect themselves from this new threat. Cordelia was quietly trying to recover from her shock, while Andrea seemed bogged down in hers. Angel fluttered around Cordy, trying to fuss without being obvious, and earning her grateful smile after one particularly awkward attempt.

Wesley was pretty much Wesley again – nervous and brave in turns, with flashes of genuine brilliance. They could use the brilliance right now, but they got the fear, instead. "Why don't we just leave? As has been amply mentioned, this is their residence. Let's leave it to them, and go home." Anya appeared about to agree. It was obvious that her fear was, once Dark finished with Cordelia, one of Xander's ex-girlfriends, the next logical target would be another ex-girlfriend. Being the only qualifying candidate, the former demon wanted to be far away when that time came.

Angel whirled on his co-worker, eyes snapping. "When I was Angelus, did any of them run away? They were brave enough to take me on, and probably saved a lot of lives because of it. Now they're in the thrall of a demon of some sorts themselves, and you want to leave them to do things they'll never live down, once they're free. Forget it. We stay, and we find a way to get them loose from this Dark monster."

"Dark isn't a monster, or a demon. He's the walking embodiment of what we all carry somewhere in our hearts," Andrea said emotionlessly, speaking for the first time since the incident in the kitchen. "If the emotions that fuel him weren't so strong, he wouldn't be, either." She looked up, turmoil churning in her eyes. "I knew. I've always known they all had issues, and they needed to talk to someone about them, but I let it go. They've been incredibly strong people, dealing with them, hiding them and overcoming them so well that it took magic to bring them out. If I had just handled it all when I could." She finally broke down, burying her face in her hands and sobbing.

Angel looked at Cordy, who moved to the couch to sit beside the doctor. The vampire sat on her other side, and pulling her gently, brought her head to his chest. He rocked her, and Cordelia stroked her back and patted her, until she'd cried herself to sleep. Then they stretched her out on the couch, covered her up, and moved the planning session to the dining room.

~**~

*Too easy,* Dark thought. *But still satisfying.* He entered the rental home, his blood churning from the fear he'd absorbed from Cordelia. He needed more of that emotion – it was so energizing.

Lilah Morgan had been debating whether she should just cut the firm's losses here, and cancel the entire Dark Unity project. Sadly, it wouldn't be the first time one of her brilliant schemes had spun madly out of her control, and she wondered if she'd ever learn that the stronger the evil, the less likely it would be to want to do the bidding of a bunch of lawyers. Darla had been Lindsey's last straw; maybe Dark would be hers. Oh, she found herself thinking distractedly, now *that* would be an interesting couple…

The door to her room flew open, and the tall handsome embodiment of evil strode in. "We had some fun," he announced and smiled, his eyes rapidly narrowing. "Now we're restless. You could help us burn off some energy." It wasn't a question or a request. It was more of a command.

The attorney jumped up from her bed, sensing that was the wrong place to be while having this conversation. She backed away slightly, trying to maneuver towards the door. "How about a jog? I noticed a great trail, just the other side…" She dropped off, wondering how he'd gotten that close to her without her noticing. His hot breath was ruffling her hair.

"We don't run. From anything," he growled as he grabbed her arm with a bruising grip. "Things run from *us*."

She nodded in complete understanding. "I could do that. Yeah…" She kept trying to back away, but he wasn't letting go, and she was running out of room to move in.

Her salvation came from the most unlikely source, running through the door with an aluminum baseball bat in hand and managing to connect with Dark's head before the being reacted. "I was the only one who knew you couldn't be trusted. You're mad, I tell you, MAD!" Quentin Travers screamed and tried to clobber Dark again, but the tall man had a firm hold on the bat, and seemed to be denting it with his fingertips. He actually, genuinely laughed.

"It is true that it takes one to know one, isn't it?" Dark asked with humor. Travers refused to release his weapon, so Dark pulled it from his hands and tossed it aside, winding his fingers in the Watcher's shirt, his expression mercurial. Anger replaced the humor, and he snarled viciously, "You're the asshole that tried to kill our Willow, aren't you? We owe you." He body slammed the bulky man against the wall with one hand, demanding. "You are, aren't you? Why aren't you dead? We love her." *Slam.* Travers' head was wobbling, his grip on consciousness slipping. "We hate you." *Slam.*Lilah, who was watching in sick fascination from where she'd slid down the wall when Dark had released her, saw the entity shimmer for a moment, and his eyes flashed from hazel to brown. A look of horror crossed his face, and he dropped the limp and possibly dead body of Quentin Travers and ran from the room.

She wanted to crawl over and check to see if Quentin still had a pulse, really she did. She would have liked to get up and wipe the bloodstain that had been left by the repeated impact of the back of the Watcher's head off of her wall. But all the frightened woman inside her was capable of was sitting there, sobbing and mentally writing her letter of resignation.

~**~

"Hi," Andrea said sleepily. The planning group had reassembled after spending a restless night trying to sleep spread out around the house. No one looked overly rested, even the doctor, whose emotional collapse had guaranteed her almost eight hours of shut-eye. The others had talked and worked late into the night before succumbing to exhaustion. "I thought of something that might be helpful."

Dunkin' Donuts boxes littered the table, and Cordelia silently handed the older woman a Styrofoam cup of coffee from the same establishment. At Andrea's raised eyebrow, she shrugged. "Still afraid of the water," Cordy answered shortly.

"So, what do you have for us?" Angel pressed. "'Cos we're fresh out of good ideas, and we've pretty much examined even all the bad ones." He wasn't hiding particularly well the fact he was eaten up with guilt that his alter ego was the named inspiration for this new danger to them all.

"I'm sure you noticed that Dark refers to himself plurally," she pointed out. "You know – 'Our friends call us Dark?'" The people at the table nodded. "When we first met Unity, she did the same thing. She didn't discover the personal pronoun 'I' until she started to exist as her own person, independent of the four she was built upon. So Dark is still the four of them, somewhere in there. He isn't thinking on his own."

"I'm not sure I find that comforting," Cordy said slowly. "That means our friends are willing and capable of terrorizing and killing us all. Not a warm, cozy thought."

"But they wouldn't be, if it weren't for the enchanted water. As it wears off, so will Dark, maybe."

Angel spoke for all of them when he said, "For the first time in two days, I see a reason for hope."

~**~

Dark had spent the night in a secluded crypt in of one of the many cemeteries in Sunnydale. Their Body had occupied the same crypt before he'd called Dark together with one purpose. No one would look for them here, and the Body had known that, too. The others would be concerned about vamps. Vampires didn't frighten Dark in the least; they were actually hoping one would take them on, so they could release some of their tension.

There was a war on, and it was being fought inside Dark. Their Spirit, and to a lesser extent their Mind, were pulling away from the Heart and Body. The anger, the desire for pain was still the strongest thing in them, but there was a softness, and they'd had to push it down more than once. They kicked one of the empty canteens across the crypt, irritated that the Body had finished all the water earlier, because they were thirsty now. Throwing the strap of the other empty canteen over their shoulder, they strode out to take care of some business. Perhaps a little activity would bind them fully again.

~**~

"Flight one-sixty-eight to Chicago, now departing from Gate 31C," the emotionless voice droned from the overhead speaker. Ernst Heinrich scurried through the airport, his hat pulled low on his brow.

One of the first lessons he'd learned in the dog-eat-dog existence of a member of the Watcher's Council was, "He that schemes and runs away, lives to scheme another day." Ernst had lived this many years by following that credo, and now he was quite intent on living at least a few more. Dark was a brilliant tool for evil, and he wished Wolfram & Hart all the luck in the world in using him, but he seriously doubted they'd survive the experience. If they did, they might want their money back. He'd worry about that when the time came. Right now, he needed to get out of here.

Miss Rogers wasn't too sure if Travers was going to make it, either. His pulse had been thready and weak, in her words. His already unstable mental condition wouldn't be helped any by the head trauma, if he did indeed live. Heinrich had given her a large amount of money and told her to take care of it, either way. He wondered if she'd let him know the outcome. At this point, he wasn't sure he cared.

"Flight three-twenty, departing for London, will begin boarding at gate 14C," the uncaring female announced, and Ernst moved quickly to the door. He was already fabricating an alibi, to be fleshed out and filled in on the long flight home. He really never wanted to return to the States. Maybe he'd even retire…

~**~

Hope. There was actually hope that this might all end before anyone she knew ended up dead. This meant a lot to Cordelia Chase – she didn't like friends dying on her. Or even acquaintances. Anyone but demons dying was usually a bad thing, although she'd reserve judgment on the folks from Wolfram & Hart, probably. No need to make sweeping statements, after all.

Maybe she'd go inside and change, put on her bathing suit, and relax in the hot tub. She took a sip from the bottle of water. She just felt cooped up in the house, and decided to sit by the pool for a while for a change of scenery. If she were really lucky, nothing bad would happen for the rest of the day.

"Cordelia. Just who we were hoping to see."

Just once, she'd like to be really lucky.

~**~


	7. Chapter Seven

Pretty Postcards From Hell 7

~7~

"Well, doctor, do you think he'll live?" Lilah looked expectantly at the man who'd been sent when she called her office for help.

"Depends on your definition of the word," he answered coldly. "Will he walk, talk, breathe and eat? Most likely. Will he ever be a productive member of society again? I doubt it." The physician didn't know exactly what the Law Firm that kept him on retainer really did, but he knew he saw more dead or nearly dead people on their calls than any other place in his practice. "Whoever worked him over did a great job. I'd say he's lucky to have survived, but the condition he's in, I don't think luck is a factor, unless it's bad." He turned for a moment, scribbling. "These pills will help with the psychotic episodes. You'll probably need a psychiatric nurse full time." He headed out the door. "I'll bill the office, as always."

Lilah turned to Rebecca Rogers, the British nurse. "I guess you can take him back to England if you want."

"Just why did you call the doctor, Miss Morgan?"

"He was beaten within an inch of his life! It was the only decent, human, right thing…" Lilah's words died off as she realized just what this girl had seen in the past few days. "I guess that's a legitimate question," she conceded. Studying her nails, the attorney realized she'd probably never see this girl again, and could be brutally honest with her. She looked up, answering, "Guilt. We did something unthinkable, and he paid the price. It was the least I could do."

"Don't you think letting him die wouldn't have been more humane?"

The words for that resignation letter began running through Lilah's head again. "I don't know what humane looks like any more, Rebecca."

~**~

"We can't believe your vampire honey lets you go outside without someone watching over you. Such a sweet little temptation – seeing you out here all alone."

Running was useless – he was faster than the wind, and it was his house, so he could, and would, get in, even if she beat him to the door. Screaming was probably not terribly effective as a defense tactic, either. He still had those damned knives. And now he had her arm. "Owww!"

"Sorry Princess." His smile said he was anything but.

"Don't you *dare* call me that." In spite of herself, tears came to her eyes, and they were for the way he desecrated the memory of Doyle, not the pain Dark was causing with his fingers in her soft flesh. Although when he tightened his grip, the tears flowed a bit faster.

"We'll call you whatever we please," he snarled.

Anger battled with the desire for self-preservation, and saving her own skin lost. "Fuck off."

He seemed to *like* that. "Ahh, spirit. That's what we were looking for." His free hand danced across her breasts again. "Although these are nice, too." Suddenly his face contorted, and she was sure, had the internal struggle lasted just a few seconds longer, she could have pulled free. Unfortunately, by the time she came to this realization the moment had passed. 

He seemed angry again, even more angry than before, and she wasn't sure why. But the hand at her breast clenched and pulled. Instead of ripping down the front, her shirt separated at the shoulder seam, and her sleeve hung awkwardly at her arm. The motion had pulled the fabric hard against the back of her neck, and the area beneath the neckline burned. Dark seemed further riled by his failure to expose Cordelia's flesh, and threw her down onto her back in the grass. Cordy's head hit hard, and she wondered how many new and varied pains she'd experience before he just out and killed her. His weight on her abdomen pushed the breath that remained from her lungs. 

Suddenly, he winced again, and Dark's face was really Xander's for a moment, not some perverted imitation, and he was upset and panicked. After the last time, she closed her eyes and steeled herself, expecting him to come back angrier, yet again. The weight lifted from her body, and she opened her eyes to see Angel and Dark, the vampire holding the entity from behind by the neck, in full demon face. Then the air around them seemed to shimmer, and Angel was holding nothing at all. Cordy pushed up onto her elbows and looked around.

The only figure she saw appear was Xander's, and at first she winced, thinking it was Dark back to finish what he'd started with her. But the clothing was different, and the handsome face wore a confused expression. He was dressed in camos, not the black BDU's Dark had worn, and he was squatting down when he appeared, falling on his butt gracelessly when he completely materialized. He got up on his hands and knees, and when he lifted his head, he looked right into Cordelia's eyes. His eyes were the chocolate brown she'd known and loved in high school, and she let go the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Xander, however, ran his eyes over Cordy's figure, saw the bruise on her arm, the torn shirt and the tear tracks on her cheeks, and his face went ashen. He jumped to his feet, disappearing into the shrubbery on the property's edge. The sound of vomiting could be heard from that direction.

"They're back. The spell's worn off," Cordy said to no one in particular.

Cordelia struggled to stand, Angel hurrying to her to help her up. "Oh, God," she heard from behind her, turning to see a distraught Slayer looking in the direction Xander had run. The tear dimmed hazel eyes turned upon Cordelia, and she repeated, "Oh, *God*." Speechless for a moment, Buffy then spilled out, "Cordelia, I'm so sorry. We never, I mean, he wouldn't, oh, oh, God." Buffy burst into tears, as Willow and Giles came up behind her in support, both looking equally guilty. The Slayer pulled away, and gestured toward the bushes. "He needs…"

Cordy put her hand on the blonde's arm. "I think I should go to him right now, Buffy. He needs to know I don't blame him."

"You don't? Why?" Xander's sense of despair sounded from his bond-mate's voice.

The May Queen smiled sadly. "I need to explain it to him, first. You can listen in, you know." She walked slowly towards him, not wanting to scare the already broken man that had once been her boyfriend. At the edge of the shrubs, she paused. "Xander?"

"Go away, Cordelia. I can't face you." His voice was raw and scratchy, thick with pain.

"Xander, I need to see *you,*" she explained. When he didn't respond, she took it as assent, and walked back to the clearing where he was sitting cross-legged, his head buried in his hands. "Look at me," she demanded. He shook his head. "Look at me," she said more insistently. Finally she knelt in front of him, and pulled his chin up so his eyes met hers. "Look at me," she repeated more gently, when he tried to turn at least his eyes. "Do I look like I blame you?"

"You should," he said bitterly. "After all these years, I found another way to hurt you. Damnit, Cordelia, I almost raped you."

"Xander," she said in that same soft voice, "It wasn't you. That thing looked like you, kind of, but it wasn't you."

He was still trying to look away. "It was me. It was my anger. It was my BODY. I was in control – Wills and Giles and Buffy were just along for the ride. I may have killed a man, Cor. You weren't the only woman I attacked. I'm a monster!"

"If you are, then we all are," Willow said sadly from behind Cordelia. Cordy stood up and turned to look at her. They seemed to have drawn a crowd, as the whole gang had come outside by this point. "We were all there, and all participated."

"I was the one who wanted Quentin Travers dead," Rupert said, his voice strained with discomfort like Xander's.

Andrea's head snapped up. She knew this smelled of the Council.

"And I was responsible for Cordy being our main target," Buffy said remorsefully.

"What about that other woman? Lilah, was it? I did that. I did most of it – all of it."

"Lilah Morgan?" Angel asked, but no one heard. *So it was them,* the vampire decided.

Andrea stepped in. "The point is, none of you were yourselves. Your water was tainted, and the results would have made a pet poodle into a snarling attack animal. And you fought it – in spite of Dark's desire to hunt and hurt us all, we're all still alive and well. Right?" she asked, looking Cordelia in the eye.

"Right," Cordy agreed, smiling without artifice. A few bruises would heal – she wasn't sure Xander's soul would, unless he knew without a doubt she held him blameless.

Andrea pressed on. "I want to spend some time with each of you – I'm not a psychiatrist, but I do know enough to help you deal with some of the issues this has brought up – issues that should have been dealt with before the original Unity was ever formed. I'm ashamed I let it go so long," she finished softly.

"So," Cordy said, a bit too brightly, "We all have our guilt stuff going. Well, except me, of course." She looked at Angel. "We all know your deal. He wanted to be like Angelus. Whoopee. So has every baddie to hit Sunny-D since the beginning of time, practically. If the name weren't Angelus, we'd just fill in the blank, and he'd model his hurting people desires on someone else. Bad guys hurt people – it's what they do. Dark would have done the same thing, with or without your former performance." 

She turned to the doctor. "You should have helped them deal with their dark thoughts. You were busy trying to keep Willow from getting killed, then you were in London, then you had a practice to set up so you could eat, and other little things like that.You can't save the world by yourself. Help them now, don't beat yourself up over 'should have's.'"

She looked at Buffy and Xander, holding each other like lifelines, Willow and Giles right beside them. "You guys. How many people have to tell you it wasn't you before you hear us? Or that whatever *was* you was warped so out of proportion, you weren't recognizable? Every one of you has dealt with an evil alter ego before, haven't you? Okay, Buffy, yours was named Faith, but otherwise… I remember the thing where the vamp Willow was here. And 'Ripper.' Willow told me a little about Xander and some hyenas. Whatever, you guys did some bad stuff, or something wearing your face did, and you got over it. This is the Hellmouth, gang. Bad stuff happens, sometimes to good people." She stood, hands on her hips, and glared for a moment, then grew self-conscious. "Speech over," she announced, a bit subdued, and she marched away.

"Who took Cordelia and left this wise woman in her place?" Buffy joked feebly, and got a half-hearted smile from her lover in return. The folks on the periphery began to shuffle and murmur, breaking apart to gather their resources and go back home, now the crisis was over. Giles saw Wesley in the outskirts, and moved towards him, calling his name.

"I owe you an apology," he said when he got close enough.

Wes shook his head. "I was rather ugly to you myself," he insisted. "The water."

Giles smiled a bit. "Perhaps we can work together to formulate a spell that would counteract such a possession, should it be tried again. With our combined libraries and resources, we could figure something out. I've rather missed working with you."

The younger man's eyes lit up. "You have?" His shoulders straightened a bit. "If we're successful, they could call it the 'Giles-Wyndham-Price Counter Spell.' We'd go down in the Watcher annals."

Rupert turned and walked with Wesley towards the house. "Indeed we would." 

Andrea saw Willow standing by herself, looking proudly after her lover. She almost turned away, but remembered her vow to help them now, since she hadn't before. "Hey," she greeted the redheaded witch. "How are you?"

"Shaken," the girl admitted. "All that stuff Dark did? I was enjoying a lot of it. Nobody thinks I ever want to be bad, but it was almost – freeing. And I never tried to stop any of it." She looked down, ashamed. "I shouldn't have said that stuff to you, though. I really don't blame you."

"Maybe you should," Andrea prodded. "I was a sheep. I let them tell me what to do, and up till the very end, I did it, without protest." She caught and held Willow's eye. "I never tried to stop any of it," she quoted directly.

"But I don't blame…" Willow stopped, understanding dancing in her eyes. "Oooh, that was tricky! If I say 'I don't blame you,' you're gonna say I shouldn't blame *me* either." A spark of humor flickered across her face. "You're good. You're very, very good."

Andrea smiled, and then her expression grew serious. "From now on, I promise to be better." 

~**~

Xander sat by the pool with his legs dangling in the water, an old pair of faded khaki's rolled up above his knees. The camo outfit was in the trashcan by the curb, awaiting Monday morning's pickup. It was dusk, and the heat of the day still lay thick near the ground, although he could feel it would be a cool night. He could hear the muted sounds of dinner and conversation inside, but he just couldn't eat quite yet, so he'd excused himself. The inside sounds grew louder for a moment, then faded back as the door from the kitchen closed again. "Hi," Buffy said, almost shyly. "Your thoughts were making it hard for me to entertain our guests."

"Sorry."

"Andrea was saying we should banish that word from our vocabulary for a while so we could stop playing the blame game and get down to real issues. Maybe she's right."

"And maybe I don't want to deal with whatever damned issues she thinks I have when I know the real issue is that there's a killer inside of me, and I let him out," Xander snarled angrily. "Oh, God," he gasped immediately, turning away from her. "See? Dark was just me. Now that I've unleashed my monster temper, I can't contain it. I even just turned on you."

"If anyone ever had a right to be angry at life, Xan, it's you. Remember, I know everything that's in your mind. I know exactly what your childhood was like, I know how much you've been hurt. I know how much hell I myself put you through emotionally in high school and even beyond. That's why I know Andrea could help. You've bottled it all up for so long – you've been the strongest man I know. But that water spell uncorked the bottle, and I think you need help to deal with what got out."

He turned back towards her, and in the dim light spilling from behind the quilts on the living room window into the now dark yard she could see the tear tracks on his face. "I love you," he said simply.

She scooted over closer to him, and he wrapped her in his arms. "I know that, too," she answered.

~**~

There were people all over the dining room and kitchen, but as Cordelia moved through the small throng, she couldn't find Angel among them. Finally, peering about, she saw him in the living room, almost beneath the heavy quilt covering the window, looking out at the pool. When she got right behind him, she could see he was watching the couple seated at the edge of the water, holding onto one another. "Even when I knew I couldn't have her anymore, I never imagined I'd be seeing her so much a part of someone else," Angel said softly, apparently aware of the woman behind him.

"Hurts?" she asked, equally softly.

"Some," he admitted. "In a good way. I do want her to be happy, and I could never make her that."

"You could have, maybe, if it were another place and time when you met. But she was practically a little girl, and you were her great Romantic Fantasy. She's grown up now, and Xander's as real as they come." A sardonic edge tinged her last words.

Angel stepped back into the room, letting the quilt fall. "You loved him once." It might have been a question, Cordy wasn't sure. She decided to answer it.

"He's an easy man to love, just a hard one to keep loving. He's not sure he deserves it, so he shoots every relationship he has full of holes, telling himself he's not to blame, that nobody can love him. I was at fault, too. I never told him how I really felt."

"You've been Insight Girl today. Where'd all of this come from?" Angel chuckled.

Cordy ignored him, finishing her thought. "She's strong enough to hold him together when he falls apart. She's not afraid of her feelings for him. They'll be good together." The May Queen was moving closer to him, and without thinking he opened his arms, resting his hands on her hips. Cordy looked Angel straight in the eye, her hands lightly touching his chest. "The only time a relationship really works is when people are honest with one another about how they feel." Angel half-closed his eyes, sure she was moving in for a kiss. The next thing he knew, his arms were empty. "I still have to work on that," she said sadly, and turned and walked out the door, leaving a confused and slightly uncomfortable vampire standing alone.

~**~

"It's been a week, now, aren't you people ever going home?" Andrea asked the LA contingent jokingly. "Not that I'm one to talk." The doctor had gone back to her regular practice, but had spent every night since Dark had separated sleeping on a sofa bed in one of the basement rooms at Unity's home. Through an unspoken commitment, the four friends had decided to keep an eye on the other four for a while, making sure they didn't descend into depression in the aftermath of the debacle. More seriously, she added, "I think they're gong to be okay."

Giles and Willow had been first to fall back into their regular routine. The magic shop and school had given them distractions, and they were all attending counseling sessions with Andrea at least twice a week. Xander was seeing her more often, by his own choice.

"Talking about us behind our backs, again?" Xander joked as he joined the others in the dining room. The spark of his trademark humor had gradually been relit, and he almost appeared to be himself again to a casual observer. Only Andrea really knew how far he had to go, how many wounds had to be reopened and how much poison still needed be dug out before Xander's psyche could completely heal. Well, Buffy probably knew, too.

"Don't worry," Cordelia assured him airily, "Anything really bad, we'll make sure you hear." Then she softened the taunt with a wide grin, and Xander returned it. She realized they'd never really been just *friends* before, instead of enemies or a couple, and she, for one, was enjoying it.

Angel watched the two of them banter with an inward smile. They played some variation of this game almost every day now, and both seemed to revel in it. It was helping to relieve some of the tension that was thick between the pair for the first couple of days after Dark was vanquished. He remembered the discussion he'd had with Xander himself, a few days ago.

"Hey, Deadb… Angel." The vampire looked up from his book to see Xander standing nervously in the doorway.

"You can come in," Angel told him, "it's your den, after all." He stuck a piece of paper in the novel and set it down on the table. "What's up?"

Xander shifted uncomfortably from side to side, finally picking up the novel and glancing at the title. "Anne Rice?" he said with surprise.

"I find it amusing, actually. Although she has a great imagination, she should have done some research first. Way off. I found it on your bookshelves here."

"I think Buffy got a laugh out of it, too." Xander set the book down and shuffled again, finally seeming to work up his nerve. "I think I owe you an apology." Angel didn't answer, just raised his eyebrow. The young man pressed on. "In high school, I was pretty nasty to you. I still don't think you and Buffy belonged together, but she really did love you – I understand that now, more than you can imagine." Angel figured sharing a mind with someone probably would up your understanding of their issues. "Anyway, I gave you a hard time about the brooding and everything, but I think I get it, now. And, well, I'm sorry." He turned to go, but Angel stopped him with a word.

"Xander." The other man stopped in his tracks, but didn't turn back around. 

"Yeah?"

"Don't brood. It doesn't accomplish much, and you miss a lot of life when you do. I finally learned that from Cordy, but it took me a long time. Why don't I let you benefit from my experience?" He was smiling until Xander's next words.

"You love Cordy now, don't you?" At the lack of response, Xander turned, and saw the carefully arranged blank look on Angel's face. "Dark saw it first – or the beginnings of Dark that were in me. You'd be good for each other. Just don't go getting all Angelus with her – I think I put her through enough recently."

"It wasn't you…"

"It was Dark," Xander finished with him. "I know, people keep saying that. Nice way to avoid the question." Xander smiled warmly, the first time Angel ever remembered the Slayerette aiming that expression at him. "Thanks for being here – all of you guys. God alone knows what might've happened if you weren't." With that, he left.

Angel sat there, mulling over the words for quite some time after Xander left. He finally decided that what he felt didn't much matter – Cordy deserved someone who wasn't a danger to her, a lover that could show her in every way possible without reservation. And he had far too many reservations to ever be the one to do that. She was the best friend he'd ever had – that was quite enough.

~**~


	8. Epilogue

Pretty Postcards From Hell ~Epilogue~

~Epilogue~

"You have to do it. It's the final test," Andrea insisted to the four people gathered in her office. "Once you've called Unity and seen that she's who she always was, you can start putting the last of your nightmares to rest."

"I'm scared," Xander said honestly.

"Understandable," the doctor agreed. "But I know for a fact that your friends need to get back to their lives in LA, and until they've seen this, too, they're not gonna want to leave." A shadow passed over Andrea's face, and Willow wondered if Buffy and Xander had noticed how close the doctor and Wesley had been growing. She knew Rupe was pushing for the pair, but they hadn't really considered that Wes would soon be leaving. *But LA isn't that far away,* Rupe said in her mind, and the witch visibly brightened. "I say we go for it," she said out loud. 

Her lover squeezed her hand, and said, "I'm with Willow."

"Of course you are," Xander said, rolling his eyes.

"Honey," Buffy said quietly, "I think she's right. We have to do this."

Xander nodded reluctantly. Then, just like the first time they'd ever come together, he put his hand out in front of him. "Unity," he said softly.

One by one, they joined their hands with his. "Unity." 

"Unity."

Buffy went last, gracing her lover with a comforting and reassuring smile before placing her hand atop the other three. "Unity," she said with confidence. The air shimmered, and they all vanished, replaced by the petite redheaded figure Andrea had begun to wonder if she'd ever see again.

"Unity!" she called out with relief.

"Hey. What an interesting trip through hell that was. I don't want to ever go back."

"I don't think you'll ever have to. We sure missed you." Andrea thought about it for a moment, then reached out and hugged the entity to her. Backing away from the brief embrace, she grinned. "There's some other people you need to see again, but first, I want you to help me with a little thank-you gift for them I've worked out."

~**~

Angel and Cordelia were thrilled to see Unity again, both greeting her like an old friend. Wesley was reserved at first, but her open friendly manner and the quick acceptance by his co-workers of her good guy status finally relaxed his caution, and soon they were friends as well.

When Andrea and Unity asked to see Angel alone, the other two shrugged and acquiesced, going off to pack for the imminent trip home. Puzzled, the vampire followed the two women to the basement, where candles and incense were arranged for an apparent magical spell.

"Okay," he asked, "What's the deal here?"

"I found a spell when we were researching during the crisis that I filed mentally for a time like this. It was tricky, so I wasn't sure I could do it, but Unity is a far more accomplished Wicca than I, so I've asked her for her help." She turned from the table where she'd been fussing, and held up a necklace with a silver anchor charm on it. "With this talisman, we can anchor your soul to your body. Permanently."

"As in, forever? No more 'moment of happiness' clause?" Angel's unbeating heart soared for a moment, then crashed back to earth. "Or, forever, as long as I have the talisman?"

"Well," Andrea drawled, "The talisman is central to the spell. It's the symbol that holds your soul in place."

"So Wolfram & Hart finds out, steals the necklace, and 'bye-bye soul,'" he said dejectedly. "I think I'll pass."

The two women stared at him, and then at each other. They thought this was the perfect gift; that the whole LA contingent would be overjoyed for Angel to finally be free of at least that fear. They'd heard about the prophecy that he'd one day regain his humanity, but this would be another piece of it he could have until that day came. They hadn't considered this little difficulty.

The air hung heavy with disappointment. "Wait," Unity cried suddenly, "I have an idea!"

~**~

Cordy, Wes and Angel all waved furiously as the car pulled down the driveway. Gunn had promised to have Dennis air out Cordelia's apartment, and he and Kate would be waiting at the office to both give and get full reports on the time they'd all been apart. They were finally headed home.

Unity had Divided after saying her farewells, and there had been hugs and tears all around between her four Parts, Andrea and the LA gang. Wesley was practically glowing with the promise of a visit from the good doctor in two weeks. Xander and Angel had shared a manly handshake, and there was respect in both sets of eyes for the first time ever.

Angel pulled onto the highway, the cool evening breeze whipping Cordelia's hair into her face. Wes was already asleep in the back of the car, the vampire noted with some amusement. "Should I put the top up?" he hollered over the sound of the wind. Cordy nodded, and he pulled to the shoulder for a moment, hit the button and fastened the clamps when the top was finally in place. He pulled back into the flow of traffic, and the woman beside him smiled.

"Thanks. I can hear myself think again."

"Whatcha thinking about?" he asked casually, and his eyes widened when she slid over on the bench seat to sit right beside him.

"You." She looked up and saw his expression, which made her giggle. But she quickly grew serious again. "I care about you – I doubt that's a news flash. But seeing Xander, or that Xander-shaped thing, being so evil and all, I realized what a risk I'm taking in feeling anything beyond friendship for you. I mean, I know we don't have to sleep together or anything, I'm not even suggesting that," she was a bit flustered, and he had to smile, "but that kind of relationship could lead to that, and I don't want to screw up your life over a moment of passion, and…"

Angel put his arm around her shoulder, silencing her as he pulled her closer to him. "Cor," he said to the now blushing woman, "I like you too. That way. Why don't we start with dinner – a real date? A not-as-just-friends kind of dinner. We can work the rest out from there."

She relaxed, sniggling into his shoulder. "But what about the whole soul thing?" she insisted.

He grinned. "You never know how things can be worked out. We'll deal with that issue when we have to."

They sat in silence as the highway flew by. After a few moments, Cordy reached out, running one carefully manicured fingernail over the back of his left hand as it gripped the steering wheel. "That's new," she commented. "I don't remember you having an anchor tattooed there before."

And his grin threatened to split his face.

~**~


End file.
